Complications
by divadarling
Summary: Adama confronts Roslin about her affair with Adar. Set right before Lay Down Your Burdens. AR with some LeeKara.
1. Complications

_I get such a sick pleasure out of torturing Roslin and Adama. This take place sometime after Epiphanies. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect. _

"What, in the name of Kobol, where you thinking?" Roslin scolded. She leaned over her desk with her hands spread and her shoulders tensed. She glared down on Admiral William Adama through her dark framed glasses with fire burning in the eyes behind them. _Damn_, Adama thought, _she looks beautiful when she's angry_. The old cliché caused him to inadvertently smile.

"Oh, I see, you think this is funny. I am surprised, shocked. You hit, or rather, violently assaulted, a subordinate officer. In front of D'anna Beirs no less."

Adama remained silent as he watched her draw back. She folded her arms across her chest. The tension remained in her shoulders. He knew her well enough to understand this would be a long lecture. _Best to let her get it all out_, he thought. He remained studying her from his comfortable chair in her office aboard the _Colonial One_.

"Do you know she is threatening to go public with the incident? Between military coups and accidental killings the public has seen quite enough of the military's brutality…but to have their leader, the symbol of the military within our fleet, behave so irrationally…I can't even fathom what you must have been thinking," Roslin chided.

She could be harsh and intimidating when she wanted to be. Adama often wondered how a woman who could come off as having so much heart could be so brutal and irrational herself.

"Are we done here," Adama finally asked. It seems his words surprised Roslin. Her mouth dropped open the slightest bit and her shoulders tensed even more, if that were possible.

"Just what am I supposed to tell Ms. Beirs?" Roslin responded her tone unrelenting.

"Tell her, it was a senior officer's disciplinary prerogative."

"You _attacked_ him Bill," Roslin said, concern mixing with the anger in her voice, "He's not a cylon or a conspirator. From what Beirs told me you hadn't even met Petty Officer Dwight before today. I would like to know how you justify this as your prerogative."

Adama stood up and turned away from Roslin's visage. Whenever she was in a room she seemed to fill it with a mystical aura that Adama found himself susceptible to. He took one step. Then two. He turned. Her presence was calling his eyes and his senses back to her. She always seemed to be calling to him, whether or not she knew it.

With a deep sigh, Adama focused his eyes on hers. He returned her hard stare with an equally forceful one of his own.

"He said you were a sanctimonious whore who fraked her way to the presidency. He said you've taken to fraking me just like you fraked President Adar. He said the sooner you are assassinated the better off humanity will be."

Roslin not only drew back in shock at the words but the color drained from her face making her appear even more unworldly. Adama was glad she was so taken aback she couldn't form a response. He had hesitated even telling her but decided if he didn't D'anna Biers surely would.

"I felt inventive disciplinary action was necessary," Adama said quite proud of his defense. _Let's see her respond to that_, he thought.

"That's crap."

Adama was a little ruffled by her statement but he did not let it show. After all, he was a hardened military leader, he could hold his own with the best of them. He had to admit, however, Roslin certainly was the best.

"He made you mad so you attacked him," Roslin replied coolly.

Adama narrowed his eyes. This was a new game she was playing. If she wanted to change the rules then so be it. He was definitely game.

"You flatter yourself," he replied.

That shut her up pretty fast. A little two fast for Adama's liking. He was having fun dancing the line of flirtation and politics with her.

"The point is," Roslin continued after a brief moment, "D'anna saw it and now she's threatening to go public. Next time if you feel like getting inventive, don't do it in front of a nosy reporter." Roslin sat down in the chair behind her desk. Adama saw her shoulders relax a bit so he decided to press his luck.

"Where you?" Adama asked smoothly, not seeing the need to add 'fraking President Adar.'

Her head flipped up quickly and she tossed it to one side to get a clump of thick brownish-red hair out of her face. Her eyes narrowed.

"Was I what?"

Adama studied her expression for a long time. He knew that she knew exactly what he was taking about. He also knew that she knew that he knew she knew. Complicated. Just like their relationship. In the beginning it hadn't been like this. They had their disagreements, their struggles to understand each other but now there was something else in the way. Had he not been the Admiral and she not the president…

"Admiral?" Roslin gently prompted.

"Had I known he was right, I wouldn't have defended your honor," Adama said and left her office. Spite rose in him so quickly he didn't have time to slow it down, let alone stop it. He stormed down the corridor of the _Colonial One._

Adama was jealous of a dead guy. That pissed him off. It also pissed him off to think of Laura Roslin as the other woman. Somehow in his mind she was above that. Adar was a moron. Roslin was a goddess. She deserved better, unless…Did she love him? It pissed him off to think that she did.

"Whoa, dad, where are you going?" Lee asked, stumbling backwards as Adama nearly ran him over. It pissed him off that Lee looked so innocent.

"Never trust a woman," Adama told his son and continued down the corridor on his rampage.

"Admiral," Adama heard from behind him in the corridor. It was Roslin's voice. He was astonished to turn and find her trailing behind him. He stopped merely because he was morbidly curious to see what she could possibly say to redeem her corrupted purity. Lee approached side by side with Roslin.

"Would you please come back to my office so we can discuss this," Roslin demanded. Her high and mighty tone only added one more item to his list of _Things that Piss Me off Today_.

"I have a shuttle to catch," he replied in a harsh ragged voice. She sighed and put her hand on his arm. That was not something he had expected.

"Stop being so stubborn," she said. Again more of an order than a request.

"What's going on?" Lee asked, and was ignored by both.

"There is nothing to discuss," he retorted with a command of his own.

"I beg to differ," she quickly responded.

"You alwaysdo," Adama shrugged.

"This is about Petty Officer Dwight isn't it," Lee interrupted. The voice of his son seemed to detour Roslin for a moment. Lee had the chance speak.

"With all do respect Madame President, I would have done the same thing had the Admiral not beat me to it. I was there. I heard what he said about you," Lee offered. The boy's dark eyes were stern but filled with honesty.

"What are you doing here Captain," Roslin asked coolly, not taking her own brown eyes off of Adama.

"Coming to tell you just that. Don't blame the Admiral. In my opinion he did what was needed," Lee said. Adama felt swelling pride replace some of the pissed-off-ness in his heart by his son's words.

In her typical way, Roslin nodded her head ever so slightly and drew her eyes quickly from Adama to Lee. The Admiral knew that meant she was about to come down on both of them, hard.

"Yes, I remember. The two of you are knights in shinning armor to the end. I haven't forgotten you wasted more than half of our fuel reserves trying to rescue Lt. Thrace. One life, or in this case, one reputation is not worth causing havoc within the fleet," Roslin rebuked them.

"But drug induced visions are," Adama snapped. He knew it was harsh, below the belt, but finding out about her affair with Adar crushed a part of him. He wanted to crush her back.

Even though Roslin stood perfectly still, she looked as if she might stagger backwards at any moment. A flash of embarrassment swept across her face and then she looked…well… pissed off.

"Let not bring up past mistakes," Adama suggested, "We've both made our share."

"I agree," Roslin began, "But let's include _all_ past mistakes, shall we."

She caught his gaze then as if calling a truce. Adama knew if he agreed he would never get her to talk about what went on with Adar. He wanted to know. He had to know. It wasn't explainable or rational. It was a core need.

"First you come clean. I have to know who I'm dealing with," he replied.

Roslin's cheeks flushed for the briefest moment as she looked at Lee and then toward the ground. When she drew her eyes back up there was a solid wall of anger behind them.

"My personal life is not your business or the business of the fleet," Roslin hissed barely above a whisper as if trying to hide the conversation from Lee.

"It's not the business of the fleet, but it is _my_ business," Adama replied sternly. He was sick of beating around the bush. It was time for all of them to come clean.

"I don't see how," Roslin said, smugly.

"Don't you." Adama narrowed his eyes at her. Again, he knew that she knew that he knew she knew what he was talking about. Complicated.

Roslin's soft features contorted in thought for a moment before she graced Adama with an answer. How many times had he seen that looked of deep contemplation on her face? How many times had the answers she'd come up with surprised him? The decision to run from the Cylons, the mission to Kobol the find earth, the suggested assassination of Admiral Cain. He wondered if this answer would carry with it the same resonance; the same mix of dread and disbelief and respect and admiration he come to expect from his encounters with her.

"Come clean about what? What is going on?" Lee asked filling the tense silence with his curiosity. Although Adama cared deeply for his son, sometimes the boy did not know when to shut up.

"You're father just discovered that I was having an affair with President Adar," Roslin simply stated. Adama visibly saw his son's mouth drop nearly to the carpeted floor of the _Colonial One_. Adama felt his own mouth do the same. He couldn't believe she would just blurt it out like that.

"An…an affair? You mean you where…" Lee sputtered out the words.

"Sleeping with him? Yes, I was," Roslin replied her tone no nonsense.

Adama could tell she was getting defensive by the way she had cut off all emotion. This was President Roslin they were dealing with, not one to reckon with irresponsibly. She plowed ahead determined to get through another dangerous mine field of words without flinching. His dead respect for her flickered alive the tiniest bit.

"But he was…" Lee sputtered again.

"…married." Adama finished for the boy. Roslin sent a sharp stare to Lee and then to Adama.

"He was, and his wife was a very nice woman. I met her on a number of occasions," Roslin said.

Adama could see she had a little more difficulty in addressing the subject than she was letting on. She lifted her chin less than half an inch but Adama knew it was her instinct when she felt trapped.

"Why?" Lee blurted. From the color in his cheeks Adama could tell his son had let that one slip. In his heart, however, Adama relished the fact that his son was clumsy enough to ask the question he dared not.

"Haven't you ever been lonely, Captain," Roslin asked, not the slightest bit of self pity in her voice.

"You are attractive. There are other men. Men that aren't married," Lee said his teeth clenched. Anger filled his voice.

Adama felt a pang of guilt then. His son should not have been in on this conversation. Adama knew Lee had a soft spot for the President. Like he did with most people he respected, Lee Adama had placed Laura Roslin on a pedestal far above the human capacity to reach. In Lee's mind, Adama knew, Roslin had just taken a violent plunge into the murky waters beneath that lofty throne.

"He was safe," Roslin replied mysteriously. Her response did nothing to ease the tight lines forming around Lee's mouth.

"What does that mean?" Adama asked.

"It means neither of us wanted more than what we had," she stated carefully. Adama lifted an eyebrow. He waited for her to elaborate. After a long sigh she finally did but not in the way he wanted.

"I haven't asked either of you to divulge the details of your personal lives and frankly I don't find it fair that you are asking me too," Roslin said placing a hand to her forehead. She had come down off her high horse a bit. Adama usually found her reasonable at this point in their discussions.

"Obviously, you both can see the political ramifications if this ever got out," she continued pacing slowly between them.

"Did you love him?" Adama questioned directly. Nothing else mattered really. Nothing but that.

Roslin snapped her head toward him. He could see her shock but she hide it quickly. This time it was he that called the truce with a single look. If she answered that one question, he would drop the subject. He could live with that, although, he knew Lee would have trouble digesting the information.

Silence grew thick in the air. Adama waited for her lips to utter one of two words. The first meant there was hope. A tiny barely visible glint of hope, but it was there. He could hold onto that hope harder than anything intangible save the memory of Zak. The second answer would cause him to seriously re-evaluate his relationship with Roslin. The second answer would cause him to question his own heart. Something William Adama had never done.

"I cared about him," she began, a little sadly. Adama felt a heavy sinking of his heart. Maybe brought on by the surgery to remove the Cylon bullets from his chest.

"But, no, I never _loved_ him."

There it was. Hope. The one thing Laura Roslin gave without scruple.

"Lee, we have a shuttle to catch," Adama told his son. Lee seemed about to protest but Adama had already began pushing him down the hallway.

Adama maintained eye contact with Roslin for a few second before he turned. He had always believed that a single look could say a thousand words that the mind and heart weren't ready, able, or inclined to say. The looked he shared with Roslin then gave him more than just hope. It gave him knowledge. He knew that she knew that he knew she knew. Complicated, but, for now, that was good enough for him.

_Hope you enjoyed:o)_


	2. Denial

_Yippee, the next chapter. Thanks for all your reviews. So many of you wanted me to continue that I couldn't resist. Hope you like! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect. But if I did own, muwhahahaha, think of the Adama and Roslin scenes…_

Admiral William Adama sighed deeply as he melted into the soft folds of the leather couch in his quarters. He bent down and stretched out his hand until he gripped the tops of his black boots. In a few short minutes he would have to leave the quite safety and comfort of his quarters. He lifted his head to see the clock on top of his desk. He knew the clock faced the other direction but he still looked out of habit. It was early still. He knew by the way the air smelled. There was something different about the air inside his ship in the early morning. It smelled sharper, cleaner, more forgiving than it did in the evening.

Still, it was far too early to face the day that lay before him. Not only was Adama required at a press conference, one of least favorite pastimes, he would also have to come face to face with _her_ again.

Adama hated to admit the fact that even after two weeks he was still reeling from the last conversation he had with President Laura Roslin. As he forced his left foot into the black boot his thoughts trailed back to their conversation. She was having an affair with Adar. The words still didn't seem real to him. His shoulders slumped as if the thought had heavy physical weight. After two weeks he had tried to force the words to make sense. After all, why not? She was Secretary of Education. He was President. She said she was lonely…

But still, an affair with Richard Adar. _Adar_. The name meant nothing to him before. Now the mere thought of it almost caused him to growl in the back of his throat. He refused to give in to the feeling. Richard _Adar_. What kind of a name was that? It didn't sound good. _Laura and Richard_…. Bill jerked on the lace of his boot a little harder than he meant to. Laura and Richard sounded even worse.

Laura and Bill, ah, now, that was more like it, he thought as he methodically began tying. Laura and Bill were two names that fit together. _And Laura Adama?_ Bill chuckled to himself with the thought. Laura Adama had a certain ring to it.

An involuntary shutter ran down Adama's back. What? Was he in Junior High again, playing silly name games with the girl he secretly had a crush on? No. No, no, no, no, _no_. He would stop this nonsense. He would get back to what this was really about. Saving humanity, fighting the cylons, reconciling with his son, anything was better than Laura Roslin.

Somehow, even with that rationalization, he still felt betrayed. Somehow, even after two weeks, the knowledge gained in that meaningful glance was no longer enough.

Just as he finished lacing up his boot, he heard a knock at the door.

"Admiral, the President will be here in ten minutes," Captain Thrace informed him as she poked her head around the thick hatch door.

"I'm ready," he told her as he stood up and reached for the documents on his desk.

He hadn't seen Roslin since the conversation aboard _Colonial One_. Adama didn't know what Roslin said to D'anna Biers, but for the moment the story of his "attack" had not been leaked to the fleet. For that he was grateful.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Starbuck told him as he fell into a steady walk beside her.

"The President insisted," Adama replied.

Starbuck sent him a brief sidelong glance and stiffened her stride. Sometimes, it seemed as though she could read his thoughts.

"You don't think it's a good idea either," Kara said, with a cocky superiority in her voice. She kept her gaze straight forward.

"Ever since Commander Garner's death, the engineers of both _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ have demanded more attention. The President feels that a publicized visit to the underbelly of _Galactica_ will smooth over any hard feelings," Adama explained.

Adama averted his eyes away from Starbuck as they rounded the corner of the corridor. He was ashamed to admit that everything he said was nearly word for word what Roslin had told him over the wireless. On this issue he was with Kara but it was better for the often times rebellious Viper pilot not to know it. Adama had a feeling with the upcoming election Roslin would be more apt to making dangerous visits to the public to secure her lead over Baltar. Adama refused to let his doubts about security sway the election against her.

"It's a security nightmare," Kara said, as if reading his thoughts again, "The corridors of the engine room aren't big enough for the press, the President, and a full security detail."

"That's why I assigned you to the President," Adama replied.

"Stupid woman," Kara muttered under her breath as they came to the causeway that led to the engine room. Two marines with heavy weapons followed them through.

Adama was certain his ears were not meant to hear Kara's comment so he pretended like he didn't. Kara was one of the few officers he would let get away with a statement like that and in this case, he had to agree.

The thought something might go wrong nearly made him physically sick. An assassination attempt wouldn't be a great surprise and with sleeper cylon agents hiding anywhere Adama was more on edge than press conferences usually made him. Roslin cared about the fleet more than her own life. She was willing to risk her life to smooth over an issue Adama would have ignored. The white board in her office proved that she truly did love every member of the fleet on some level. What she couldn't see was that many in the fleet needed her to stay alive for the mere hope she gave them. They loved her. He loved…

"No," he said out loud. When he looked up Kara's eyes were wide and from her pursed lips she appeared to be startled. Not as startled as Adama was. He had practically yelled.

"What?" she asked, as they neared the designated meeting place twenty floors below deck.

"Nothing," Adama muttered. He could tell from her continued stare that Starbuck wanted to press him for answers. For the first time in his life Adama was glad to see the eager vulture's nest of reporters.

Near the other end of the long skinny corridor he glimpsed Roslin quickly whisper something in the direction of Tory. The young assistance nodded and the two woman approached Adama and Starbuck. The marines with the guns flanked each side of the podium Roslin would address the press from.

"Good morning Captain," Roslin said, smiling, "Admiral."

There was only one thing going through his mind. No, no, no, no, _no_.

"Madame President," Adama replied.

"I'm glad you could make it," Roslin said. As if Adama would have trusted anyone else but himself or Starbuck or his son with the safety of the woman he…

No, no, no, no, _no_!

Troy made an obvious gesture toward her watch and cleared her throat.

"Alright, show time," Roslin said, with a wink at Kara. The President was rewarded with a broad smile from Adama's once daughter-to-be.

Adama and Kara moved behind the podium to the left of Roslin. As she began addressing the press and a few engineers who were hand picked by Adama to attend, her voice barely carried over the rumbling of _Galactica_'s engines. Still, she pressed on taking her time to commend the engineers for their hard work, explaining how Adama depended on them for his life and the life of the crew everyday, and manipulating questions from the press about Garner's death to fit into her nicely laid out political agenda.

"You've gotta admit she's good. I never saw Adar frak the press and please them at the same time," Kara joked under her breath.

_That's because he was busy frakking someone else_, Adama nearly snapped back. Fury suddenly rose in him. He didn't care if it seemed strange. He had to leave the tight corridor. He had to get away from _her_, from Kara, from the press, from everything.

He slipped away in the direction of the open hatch to the next corridor all the while aware that may eyes, including Kara's, followed him with curiosity. Roslin paused briefly in her address but recovered quickly. Once he stepped through the open hatch into the next section he felt like he could breathe again. He could still hear Roslin's voice answering questions from the reporters. This was no good. He had to get over this. It was becoming a problem, and interfering with his ability to run his own ship.

Adama rested a hand against the side of the wall and hung his head in shame. Maybe if he just said out loud…and that is when he saw it. His eyes picked up the black round object carefully hidden behind the enclosed electrical box. Adama knew exactly what it was. It didn't take long for his military training to kick in.

Calmly he stepped back inside the room. Kara immediately picked up the fact something was wrong. Sometimes her ability to read his thoughts was a good thing. Adama approached Tory as he saw Kara gently tap Roslin on the shoulder.

"Tory, I want you to be very calm about this," Adama said in a low rumble, "There is an armed explosive in the next section. I want you to get all of the people out of here once we have the President safely away."

Tory's jaw dropped the slightest bit and Adama was amazed to see her professional facade lapse for a brief second. It was regained immediately and with a visible gulp Tory nodded calmly.

Kara must have told Roslin to wrap it up. The press, lead by D'anna Bier's, politely applauded as Roslin stepped away from the podium. With one swift movement both he and Kara grabbed Roslin by one elbow and nearly lifted her off the ground as they escaped in the direction opposite the bomb.

"What are you doing," Roslin demanded in a voice all too condescending toward two people who were in the process of saving her life.

Adama heard frantic alarmed gasps from the crowd as they hurried through corridors back up through _Galactica_'s underbelly. Tory's authoritative voice echoing faintly from behind them rose above the crowd.

"Everyone please remain calm…" was the last thing Adama heard before the explosion.


	3. Wounds

_Okay, yes I did feel bad for leaving you dangling at the end of the last chapter. Hopefully the wait wasn't too painful. This is a longer chapter and still not quite how I wanted it but I didn't want to keep you in suspense because I was afraid you might hurt me (Charming-Storm screamed and TurboNerd yelled "No!"). Although, you should be warned, the ending of this one is just as bad as the last one...(evil laughter) Thanks for reading and all the EXCELLENT reviews!! You all rock! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect. But if I did own, muwhahahaha, think of the Adama and Roslin scenes…_

Kara Thrace felt the stinging of hot metal on her back as she slowly opened her eyes. Her arms were sprawled out in front of her from the force of the blast. Charred pieces of metal still smoldered an angry red color on the floor in front of her. With a stifled groan she propped herself up onto one elbow. There was a shallow but long cut down her right forearm. She inhaled deeply and blinked twice to clear the smoke from her mind. Maybe the smoke was inside the corridor. She wasn't sure which. _Pain_, was the first coherent thought she had. _I can't breath_ was the second.

Kara rolled over on her side and saw the old man. His back was facing her but she could tell by the movement of his shoulders he was recovering from the blast. Stumbling to her feet amidst the smoke and bruises Kara leaned on the side of the corridor for balance. Once standing she saw the Admiral remove his arm from the waist of President Laura Roslin. The three of them had hit the floor hard a moment ago and Kara was sure the old man had instinctively sheltered Roslin from the blast.

The Admiral's eyes blinked open and he looked up at Kara.

"Are you alright Captain?" He questioned, his voice choking on the smoke in the room.

"Fine," Kara said as she touched her fingers to her lips. She ignored the sudden stinging of her lower lip and the blood she saw on her finger tips.

"You?" she asked.

Admiral Adama nodded as he sat up slowly. Before either could said anything more Roslin came to with a jerk and a small gasp.

"Madame President," Kara heard Adama gently whisper.

Roslin's head shifted suddenly away from Adama. The president closed her eyes tightly and Kara could have sworn she saw tears. Roslin was not one to cry, although, Kara had never seen her in such an intense and dangerous situation, so maybe the older woman was just wimpy. From what Kara had seen of Roslin, like playing hardball with the cylons and making dangerous visits to Kobol, wimpy was not a word she would picked for the president. She dropped her shoulders along with the thought and began to examine their situation.

Adama drew her attention as he started to stand. His head moved just enough for Kara to see Laura Roslin's left hand. She could not stop the startled grimace that escaped her lips. Adama immediately followed Kara gaze. Roslin's behavior suddenly made sense. Her hand was pinned to the wall by the remaining fragments of a small metal rod. The rusty charred metal had blown through the middle of Roslin's hand and wedged itself into the wall.

"Oh, frak me," Kara muttered.

Adama gave Kara a single look that said everything she needed to know. They would have to get Roslin free, and fast. Smoke was filling the room, and from the constant rumbling Kara guessed the explosion had made the tunnels through the underbelly of _Galactica_ unstable.

With surprising speed and agility Adama moved on the other side of Roslin and placed a finger under her chin drawing her eyes to his. Kara followed his unspoken order by kneeing next to Laura's hand.

_Laura, er, the President_, Kara reminded herself. Something about the quaint, school teacher persona Roslin emanated made Kara feel like they should be on a first name basis. _But, she'd throw you out the airlock in a second if she thought you were a cylon. She'd probably airlock you if you called her Laura,_ Kara thought with a smirk as she contemplated a way to get Roslin's hand free.

If she pulled the hand away at the angle the metal had pierced it then it should come lose relatively easy. _But_, Kara thought with an involuntary wince, _it's gonna hurt like hell_.

"It's funny Laura," Kara heard Adama's soothing voice above the rumble of the ship, "I thought our adventures were over after the demise of Admiral Cain, but it seems you just can't stay out of trouble."

Though the comment was meant to lighten the mood, Kara could hear the strain in the old man's voice. He was worried. Whether about Roslin, the ship, the explosion, or getting to safety, Kara wasn't sure. She had to focus.

"Well," Laura began. Kara was amazed the woman had so much calm clarity in her voice for everything that had just happened.

"I wouldn't want you getting bored with—"

One swift hard movement was all it took for Kara to rip Roslin's hand away from the metal rod. Instead of finishing the sentence Roslin growled into Adama's shoulder. Blood seeped from Roslin's hand to the dirty burnt pant leg of Kara's uniform. Not letting the gruesomeness get to her, Kara tore a strip off her uniform and wrapped Roslin's hand tightly to stop the bleeding.

As she worked her eyes stung with the smoke growing ever thicker in the air. The sound of Roslin's stifled cries of pain tore at her sympathies. Kara knew if had been in the Presidents situation outright screaming and cussing to high heaven would have filled the corridors.

Kara looked up at Adama once she had finished the makeshift bandage. Adama had one arm wrapped around Roslin's shoulder and his cheek was touching her forehead. Roslin's other hand gripped at the fabric of Adama's uniform just above his shoulder. Despite the situation, Kara lifted an eyebrow in amusement. Surely Adama would have taken care of any injured officer the same way…although, he might not have held them so tightly. The old man certainly was chummy with the President, but that was information Kara stored away to ponder after they lived through this experience.

"We have to get moving," Adama said, still holding Roslin but give Kara an intense stare, "this section is unstable."

Kara wasn't about to argue with him. He knew _Galactica_ better than anyone. The Viper pilot stood up and walked to the bulkhead door at the other end of the room. She laid her palm flat against it.

"Ouch, frak," she cursed under her breath and shook her had.

The door was hot. There was probably a blazing fire behind it. She drew her gaze to the other end of the corridor. They certainly couldn't go back the way they had come. The explosion damaged the other hatch to near ruin.

Kara blew on her hand as she walked back to try and take some of the sting out, although, after what Roslin had just been through she wasn't about to complain about her hand injury.

She knelt down beside her two companions. Roslin now had her eyes closed and her head was leaning back against the wall. Her good hand was on her forehead. Kara made eye contact with Adama.

"Only one way out, that's up," Kara said, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. Adama drew in a deep breath and shifted his gaze back to Roslin.

"Laura, we have to crawl through the ventilation ducts to get out before they open this entire section to put the fires out or before the fire gets us," Adama explained slowly.

Kara watched Roslin swallow hard. Her hand fell from her forehead and she opened her eyes. There was strength behind them that for some reason, always caught Kara by surprise.

"Then I suggest we get a move on before our asses are ablaze," Roslin said lifting her eyebrows.

Kara couldn't help but let a laugh tumble out of her mouth at the unexpected joke. Adama looked at Kara with what she thought was almost a smirk. He quickly stood up, reminding them all of the severity of the situation. He helped Roslin to her feet and as he was doing so Kara ventured a few steps in front of them to the ladder that lead up to the ventilation ducts.

She touched the metal on the ladder slowly and with one finger. Kara Thrace was not one to do the same dumb thing twice. The metal ladder was hot but nothing like the bulkhead. She climbed up a few steps and winced when the cut on her arm scrapped against a lose piece of wiring.

Once at the top she pushed on the panel above her head. It didn't budge. She pushed harder and then began pounding on it with her fist.

"Stupid…" she said and punched it, "fraking…" she continued with another punch. This time the panel loosened and before Kara knew what was happening it was falling through the air. She heard a soft yelp of surprise come from Roslin at the bottom of the ladder. When she looked down her eyes met with an un-amused scowl from Adama.

"Sorry," Kara yelled, and then mumbled to herself, "Okay, stupid thing number two done by Kara Thrace today."

She hoisted herself up into the vent. Heat was visibly soaking through the crawl space. With another effort she edged along the vent to where she could see the waves of heat began. Her hand rested on the metal for a moment before she decided it was not hot enough to detour them from their only escape route. She backed up across the open vent and stuck her head through.

"It looks okay but it won't be for long," she said.

Adama and Roslin were standing side by side very close together with all too serious expressions straining their faces. Kara couldn't help but smile at how, well, kinda cute they looked.

Roslin began the climb first, which was slow going since she had the use of only one hand. Kara noticed that blood had already soaked through the bandage. Roslin needed to get to the medical bay as soon as possible. Adama must have thought so also because he climbed up the ladder very hot on Roslin's heels.

Kara waited to begin moving until she was sure Roslin had made it up the ladder. When a mane of brownish hair finally appeared Kara saw for the first time the President of the Twelve Colonies looked like crap. Her hair was messed up and she had a number of scratches and cuts on her face. Kara suddenly wondered if she looked that crappy… If she did she was secretly glad Apollo wasn't around. But that was the _only _reason she was glad Apollo wasn't around. She forced Lee far from her thoughts. There was a rift between them she didn't like to think about. Unfortunately, every time she thought about Lee she thought about the rift...

"Are you okay?" Kara asked, letting the genuine concern she felt cover her face like a blanket and break her away from her current train of thought.

"At the present moment my answer to that is yes and hurry up," Roslin quickly answered and flicked her hand in the direction Kara was to go.

Not having to be told twice Kara began crawling along the vent. Only after a few minutes she began sweating with the intense heat that was leaking into the vents from the corridor below. She heard Roslin begin violently coughing and stopped.

"Keep going," Roslin choked out. Kara cocked her head to one side and obeyed the order. _Nope, definitely not wimpy_, she thought.

Smoke blurred Kara's eyes but the air seemed to detoxify as they moved further along. The heat had steadily increased by the time Kara reached the next panel. With a fist she pounded on it with more force than she had before. This time there was no one below to hit on the head.

"Come on," Kara yelled said as if the panel was alive and had the soul purpose of irritating her. When it still wouldn't fall out of place Kara crawled over the top of it and then turned over. With the heel of her boot she assaulted the silver slice of metal with all strength. The metal bent and twisted out of shape but still didn't come lose.

"It's stuck," Kara said to Roslin, who was leaning against the side of the vent with her injured hand pressed to her chest.

"Or something's blocking it," Kara said more to herself than anyone.

She made eye contact with Roslin. Although Laura Roslin was not a large woman by any sense, she was not small. Her presence and visage filled the four by four compartment with little room around the edges. To Kara's disbelief and wonder, Bill Adama somehow managed to climb on top of, or next to, or around the president. Kara was not sure how it could be described. Not only that, Kara wasn't quite sure why he would want to do that…correction, she was hoping his reason for doing so wasn't the first one to crossed her mind.

If Kara was surprised then, judging by the open jawed wide eyed stare Adama was receiving, Roslin was shocked. Perhaps it was the smoke, but Roslin couldn't manage to say anything. In mustering the ability to question the old man's actions Kara didn't have much luck either.

"Could you hurry please," Adama growled, obviously not as comfortable with the situation as Kara might have thought. Her eyebrows squeezed together at the astonishing sight. Roslin made a sort of mumbling sound.

"Oh, I see, yes, that is rather hot," she said.

At first Kara was not sure what Roslin was reacting too, but when both Roslin and Adama inched forward swiftly the Viper pilot finally understood. The heat from the corridor was burning their feet. Adama had moved forward to avoid being burned. _Whew, that's a relief_, Kara couldn't help thinking. She suddenly wondered if Lee had ever felt any undercurrents between Adama and Roslin. Lee again…she pushed the thought away.

"What did you think I was doing," Adama deadpanned while looking right at Roslin. The three of them burst out laughing, though Kara could tell Roslin was hiding her discomfort. While they laughed Kara began frantically kicking the panel again. She managed to contort the metal even more but still not enough to pry it open.

"Move to the next section," Adama ordered, the humor completely gone from his voice.

He and Roslin both looked like they were in pain, maybe for more reasons than just the physical. Kara stored yet another thought away in her mind and rolled over. On her hands and knees again she quickly crawled through the next ventilation corridor. Again she felt the heat increasing. There was a curve in the tunnel and when Kara rounded the corner only one word popped out of her mouth.

"Frak."

This was not their lucky day. In front of her, Kara could see dented collapsed metal cutting off their only escape route.

"What's wrong?" Roslin's unwavering voice echoed in the enclosed space. Obviously Kara's behind was blocking the President from seeing the dilemma in front of them.

Instead of answering Kara crept on hands and knees closer to the cave in. Upon closer inspection she could see the light from the other side flicker through a small hole close to one side of the vent. By no means was it large enough for her to squeeze through but at the moment Kara was grateful for any glimmer of hope. The heat was again starting to seep into the less smoky air and Kara felt the condensation on her skin. She craned her neck over her shoulder.

"We might be able to prop it up," she explained as she saw Roslin's head appear from around her behind. In any other circumstance Kara might have dared a 'the president in is the perfect position to kiss my butt' comment. In an act of great restraint she held her tongue.

The older woman nodded and Kara could tell the fatigue of her injury combined with the less than pleasant environment was draining her energy. Hell, it was draining Kara's energy. But, Kara reminded herself, Laura Roslin was a lot tougher than she looked. Besides, Kara still thought of her own self as near invincible. They were going to live through this. That was a fact.

With a grunt yanked lose a piece of metal pipe running along the top of the vent. Hissing filled the vent once the pipe had been dislodged from it function carrying some type of gas or air throughout the engine room. With a grimace Kara briefly hoped it was air and not gas. When no explosion occurred Kara rolled over and, this time careful not to hit Roslin in the head with the other end, wedged the pipe into the opening. Both her hands wrapped around the rough grainy texture of the black pipe and she used all her weight to push down. The collapsed section lifted an inch. She lifted her weight from the pipe and looked up at Roslin who reached out ready to help.

"No offense Madame President but I would feel a lot better if the Admiral—"

Roslin released her hold on the pipe.

"None taken," she replied and pressed herself as close to the wall as she could get. Kara shifted her eyes to the old man, who was already climbing over the top of Roslin again. Just as Adama reached out to take the end of the pipe there was a violent jolt that Kara felt run all through the engine room. She lost her grip on the pipe which smacked her in the face before she could get clear.

The jolt rumbled away until only faint vibrations could be felt dying off into the distance. Kara rubbed her aching jaw and glanced over to make sure her companions were alright. She saw the old man place a hand softly on the President's shoulder. Roslin clutched her injured hand to her chest as her face fought to hide the pain. The rumbling this time happened right behind Kara's back. She heard rather than saw the tunnel collapse even more.

"We better hurry," she said, almost feeling like a guilty outsider for interrupting Roslin and Adama's 'moment.' _Since when the hell does the old man have 'moments' with the President?_ Kara wondered to herself. She didn't have time to further question as Adama was leaning on the pipe and opening the tunnel wider.

On frayed nerves Kara waited and watched as the passage blocking their way grew wider with Adama's efforts. With one hand flat against the wall and the other on the floor near the opening Kara was ready to spring into action the moment she thought she could fit through. Adama forced the pipe nearly to the floor before Kara darted through the tunnel with the grace of a feline. She bit her lip as her back scrapped against the top of the collapsed metal. As soon as her feet cleared the debris another jolt shook the engine room. The tunnel collapsed completely behind her. Kara could only stare in shock for a moment at what was almost her final resting place.

"Are you through?" she heard Adama shout. She couldn't help but be touched by the obvious concern in his voice.

"Piece of cake," she replied, her voice more sure than she was.

"Can you get through?" Kara shouted at the wall of assorted metal and wire. She waited. Faint voices rose and then died out. She heard metal scrapping metal and then silence.

"No," Adama answered his voice stone. "You'll have to go back around and see if you can open the panel behind us."

Kara didn't like the sound of that. It wasn't the danger she minded, she relished danger, but with the temperature rising Adama and Roslin were likely to cook in the vent like chicken strips in aluminum foil over a hot camp fire. Kara hesitated before moving, hoping and wishing a brilliant alternative plan would smack her in the face like the pipe had.

"Captain, I need not remind you that the life of the President of the Twelve Colonies depends on you," Adama said. Kara knew the old man was trying to get her to move and stop waiting for an alternative.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

Kara didn't care so much about the well being of Roslin but she would be damned if she would let anything happen to the old man. She owed that much to Lee. She owed that much to herself. With a deep sigh into the smoky air Kara began the endeavor to save the leaders of humanity.


	4. Dangerous Situations

_I know it's about time for some good Rodama moments, yes? I hope you're not disappointed. I love Roslin making controversial decisions…poor Adama…_

_Also, being a trekkie I kept calling Tory, Troy (as in Deanna Troi). I tried to catch all the typos on that one so if there are still some please ignore. Thanks for reading and the reviews! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect. But if I did own, this drought of Adama and Roslin scenes in Season 3 would be over!_

With a stifled grumble of relief Adama heard Kara's answer from the other side of the collapsed tunnel. All of his strength went into holding the debris up long enough for the Viper pilot to squeeze through. When he felt his arms weakening with the strain Roslin reached out with her uninjured hand to help support the weight. In fact, at this very moment, he had Laura Roslin to thank for the life of his best Viper pilot. In a way it was fitting Apollo and Starbuck, his children, both owed their lives to the woman he lo—

"No, no, no, no, _no_!" he thought to himself, _you have got to put a stop to this_. He pushed the pipe away and glanced up to see a puzzled look on Roslin's face.

"No need to punish yourself Bill," she said, "If this is anyone's fault it's mine. I don't suppose my saying you were right about the press conference would make much difference now."

For a moment Adama was lost in the conversation until he realized he must have spoken his thoughts out loud unintentionally. He smiled a little at his own foolishness.

"You smoothed things over with the engineers," he replied gently, quickly burying his real problem in the guise of a different subject.

"At what cost?" she mused gazing blankly over his shoulder, "The engineers, the reporters…Tory." Roslin choked out the last word and stopped before she continued. She swallowed hard. "They are probably all dead now."

"You don't know that," Adama simply replied.

It was the truth. If he knew anything about Tory, she was too much a pain in Roslin's ass to go down that easily. Adama suspected Roslin liked Tory a great deal more than she let on. Tory was _not_ Billy but Adama suspected the intelligent, brisk assistant probably helped ease some of Roslin's pain over the boy's loss. Besides, Adama liked Tory, as surprising as that was. Of course, his emotions had a way of surprising him lately…or perhaps; _betraying_ was a more fitting word.

"What are you thinking?" Rosin asked softly. Adama lifted his head to see she had been studying him.

"I like Tory," he answered. When Roslin said nothing he continued. "I think she's good for you."

"I wish I could say the feeling's mutual. She doesn't like me very much, but her career choices are…a bit limited, shall we say? She really has no alternative to working for me," Roslin reasoned.

"You're wrong," Adama said sternly. "You opinion and approval mean everything to her."

Roslin tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes as Adama watched her ponder his words. He had decided that Roslin looked her most beautiful when she was angry which he had come to conclude two weeks ago when she yelled at him aboard _Colonial One_. Now, however, he decided to rescind that verdict. Laura Roslin definitely looked most beautiful when she was thinking. Adama had never been one to fall for smart women, especially women as smart as or smarter than he was, but Laura had a way of breaking his preconceptions.

A violent inhale from Roslin snapped Adama out of his thoughts. The heat had been steadily increasing and Roslin was closer to the heart of the fire than he was. Quickly he moved to the side of the vent allowing Roslin to edge away from the heat. Once settled, he found himself lying next to her, so close that there noses were nearly touching. Adama could feel the heat sinking through his boots and biting at his feet. Or, perhaps, the rise in temperature he was feeling was something else…

_No, no, no, no, no! Kara you better hurry_, Adama thought as he watched Roslin fight the weariness overtaking her. He trusted Kara with his life which to him was no great achievement, but trusting Kara with the life of Laura Roslin… Somehow, he wished Kara could know the true depth of his trust. He hoped it hadn't been misplaced.

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The panel Kara kicked in tumbled to the bottom of the corridor clanging loudly all the way down. Not bothering with the steps on the ladder, Kara placed her hands and feet on the outside poles and slid to the bottom with impressive grace and speed. Small fires where burning inside the corridor but Kara ignored them. She ran to the hatch at the end of the corridor and twisted the handle open with aggressive force. Time seemed to tick by as if it was a tangible object Kara could feel slipping through her fingers.

Lee would never forgive her if anything happened to his dad. Knowing anal retentive goody-two-shoes Lee, he probably would never forgive her if anything happened to the President either. Although, Kara couldn't help but notice Roslin and Apollo had not been on the best of terms lately. _Problems in Adama family paradise_. She snickered with the thought.

Kara flung the thick metal hatch open with ease and was blasted in the face by a visible wave of heat. Inside the corridor orange and yellow flames burned with angry momentum along the outer most walls. There was a narrow tunnel in the middle of the corridor not engulfed in fire. Without hesitation Kara sprinted into the mist of flame.

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"She'll find a way to get us out of here," Roslin assured Adama.

Even though she looked like crap, with her hair tangled and her pants suit stained, Roslin still managed to say the words with heartfelt conviction Adama found comforting. Apparently she had the same faith in Kara he did. The fact made him fill with pride. He couldn't remember how many times he had been told Kara was a menace to the fleet, she should be permanently locked in the brig or sent to a rehabilitation camp for troubled officers. Adama was looking forward to telling Saul how Kara had saved them all yet again.

"How's the hand?" Adama asked.

Blood had completely saturated the makeshift bandage Kara had wrapped around Roslin's injury. Adama thought he briefly saw a grimace pass over Roslin's face.

"Just fine," she said, though the answer this time was not heartfelt.

Adama tore at the sleeve of his uniform and gestured for Roslin to surrender the hand to him. Hesitantly she offered it. Adama carefully clutched her by the wrist with one hand and with the other carefully removed the old bandage.

Once removed, Adama inspected the exposed injury and frowned.

"You need to get to a doctor," he stated as he began wrapping her hand with the new bandage.

"No hurry," Roslin said, with a faint smile, "I've seen enough of Dr. Cottle to last me quite a long time."

Adama smiled in return although the subject was a painful one. He had never quiet come to grips with Roslin's cancer. He felt uncomfortable every time she joked about it. Now that she was cured he refused to remember how much the thought of losing her had affected him.

"I think many of my officers feel the same way, Kara among them," he joked back as he absently brushed his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. Roslin let out a short chuckle and ducted her head. Maybe he had been wrong again; maybe when she was most beautiful when she was laughing.

_Stop. This. Now._

He abruptly let go of her hand once he finished tying off the bandage.

The heat was beginning to get to Adama, and involuntarily he undid the buttons on his uniform. When Roslin lifted her head he could see she was becoming just as uncomfortable. Sweat began to form just above one of the scratches on her forehead.

He watched as she struggled to get her own suit jacket loose. With the use of only one hand it was a struggle in vain.

"Here," Adama offered, as he reached out with both hands. He undid the three buttons of the jacket and without thinking reached up to help push it off her shoulders. Adama stopped dead in his actions when he looked up and came face to face with Roslin. His hands where wrapped around the jacket which in turn was wrapped around Roslin's shoulders. Which meant, his hands were wrapped around her shoulders.

To his surprise Roslin shuttered the slightest bit even though the vent was filled with nearly unbearable heat.

"Maybe I should leave it on," she said quickly as her face flushed with color.

Adama drew his hands back so fast that Roslin nearly lost her balance. In reaction she thrust her good hand out which landed on his chest and kept her from crashing into him. She made eye contact and neither of them broke the gaze. Roslin did not bother to remove her hand, much to Adama's irritation. It was hard enough to fight his feelings without having her be so close to him. And why was it so hot?!

He reached up and brushed a wild strand of hair away from her cheek. Adama could feel himself losing ground in the fight against his heart. His thumb traced its way down to Roslin's chin and along her soft neck until his hand rested on her shoulder.

"It's against my better judgment to bring this up but I…," she suddenly blurted out. Adama did not move, afraid the moment would be lost forever. Roslin drew in a deep breath before continuing. Adama watched her intently.

"I need…I want you to know…Before the attack on Caprica I was about to end the…affair…with Adar. I knew it was wrong from the beginning. I'm not sorry you found out about it, but I am sorry for what you must think of me," Roslin explained.

Under any other conditions such a confession from Laura Roslin may have surprised, even stunned him, but not now, not this moment. If anything he was disappointed the affair is what she wanted to confess…he had hoped for something…a little closer to home.

"We've all made mistakes," Adama replied, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.

"This could be another one," Roslin said looking directly at Adama.

Her face was stone but he saw a warmth behind her eyes that drew him in. Her other worldly quality was literally like a magnet pulling him closer to her. He removed his gaze from her eyes and focused on her lips.

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"Mother of a toaster," Kara muttered under her breath as she looked up through the heat to the panel on the ceiling. No wonder she hadn't been able to kick it open, the flames in the room had welded part of it to the ceiling.

Kara scanned the burning corridor for something she could use to pry open the panel. She stumbled and coughed as she looked for a piece of lose metal or knife or anything she could possibly make use of. Smoke caught in her lungs and she doubled over coughing it out. Then, she saw it. Another bomb hidden near the floor behind an electrical box. For some reason it hadn't gone off…yet. It was then Kara had one of those brilliant moments in life that one can't help but credit to divine inspiration. Perhaps the Gods were looking out for Laura Roslin after all.

Kara quickly grabbed the explosive, which was standard military grade, probably stolen from one of the lockers in the officers supply room. Part of training for all military personal involved learning the tricks of disabling an explosive. Upon further inspection Kara found the bomb had a blown fuse, probably damaged from the first explosion. If she could rewire it with just enough force to blow the welded panel out of place then the old man might just have a chance. All of that would take time. She hoped, not too much time.

"Okay, Lords of Kobol, I could use your help on this one," she said out loud and cocked her head to one side as she began rewiring the bomb.

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No, no, no…

"It is a mistake," Adama agreed as he moved closer, "But I can't seem to stop myself."

He watched as Roslin parted her lips with the faintest smile lingering on them.

"I can't seem to stop you either," she replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

He saw her close her eyes in preparation for what was about to happen. Adama leaned forward and paused for just a moment to enjoy the thrill that ran through him. This was the moment before he was about to kiss the woman he loved.

_Yes_, he loved her. There, it was out. Frak all reason, common sense and better judgment. He loved Laura Roslin! And on top of that, he liked the feeling. Why shouldn't he? They were the leaders of humanity and if anyone deserved a little happiness why shouldn't it be them?

He inched closer and the space between them disappeared. Her shallow breath tickled the skin beneath his nose. His hand tightened on her shoulder. The hand on his chest offered no resistance. He felt his lips brush hers. There was a loud explosion. For a moment he thought the emotion between them had ignited the heat saturated air… He soon realized it was something else.

"Are you coming or is roasting up there fun," Kara's voice blasted through the vent.

If this moment had been a sparkling crystal glass, then Kara's voice was like a black sledge hammer shattering it into too many pieces to ever be put back together again. Adama reasoned this would probably go down in history as the moment he _almost_…well, it really didn't matter now.

Roslin had already started crawling backwards in the direction they had come and Adama followed. He found it interesting that she refused to look at him before she began the journey backwards. With a sigh he followed her down the tunnel. The vent had heated to a nearly unbearable level and the metal was hot on the bare skin of his hands. Ignoring the pain was easy, however, because the aching of his heart took over all other coherent thought.

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Kara was not quite sure how she managed to rig the bomb to only partially explode but now was not the time to question such things. She watched as Roslin stumbled down the explosion deformed ladder with her injured hand. Nearing the bottom rung she slipped and caught herself before she landed face first on the floor. Fire was raging all around them. Kara wiped the sweat from her forehead before reaching out to help the president regain her balance. Adama was close behind her, so close that only a split second after Roslin let go of the ladder Adama was on the ground beside her.

Before Kara could speak a loud buzzing alarm began ringing over the crackling of the fire.

"It's the depressurization warning," Adama shouted at Kara grabbing her by the arm.

He gently pushed her out of the way and fought his way through the flames to the electrical box readout. Kara was about to join him but she felt a tug on her arm. When she looked up she saw the president having a difficult time standing. Roslin had reached out to Kara and was leaning on her for support. The Viper pilot could only squint through the flames and watch Adama study the readout.

"Get out of here," Adama ordered when he returned.

"What about you?" Kara questioned unsure what to make of the situation.

"I have to manually open the valve in this section. The explosion damaged the wiring. If it doesn't open we will lose _Galactica_," Adama explained as if it were a routine operation.

"If you stay we'll lose you," Kara argued. Adama grounded himself and stretched to his full height.

"Get the president clear of the section, wait for me for ten minutes and if I'm not back seal the airlock," Adama said. Kara hesitated. She wasn't about to leave him.

"You take the president, I'll stay and open the valve," Kara suggested.

"What do you know about opening jammed valves on battleship class vessels?" Adama questioned her sternly. Kara opened her mouth but no answer came out.

"That's what I thought. Go," Adama yelled. Kara still held out for a brief second, hoping for the second time that fate would somehow intervene.

"That is a direct order, Captain," Adama said. The tone in his voice was one Kara had learned a long time ago never to question. She lifted her hand and saluted her Admiral.

"We will wait for you, sir," she said with as much conviction as she had ever felt.

Kara began to head through the flames toward the door but Roslin's hand on her arm held her in place. Kara turned to see the Admiral and the President share a peculiar look before Roslin began moving away.

Kara, with a supporting hand on Roslin's elbow, stepped through the hatch and Adama fell out of sight. Although Kara could feel Roslin's strength fading, she still sprinted through each corridor. As they traveled the flames grew more intense and then died down with the faint rumbling falling further and further away. The more ground they covered the harder it became to keep up their current speed; the harder Kara found it to hold out hope that the old man would make it.

Up head Kara finally spotted the hatch singling the separation of the section of engine corridor. Once she and Roslin had stepped through it safely, Roslin let go of Kara's arm and leaned against the wall panting for air. Kara might have been worried Roslin would black out had her mind not be occupied with concern for the old man.

"He'll make it, Captain," Roslin said between gasps for air.

"He's got eight minutes," Kara said, more to herself than to Roslin as she looked down at her watch. The buzzing of the alarms continued. Beneath the flashing light Kara spotted a phone dangling in air from its black cord. She stumbled over to it and put it to her ear hoping that maybe she could get in touch with Tigh and tell him to wait for a few more minutes before depressurizing. The line was dead.

"Frak," Kara said and slammed the phone back on the hook.

With nothing else to do, Kara began to nervously pace back at forth in the corridor, glancing through the hatch every so often to see if Adama was coming.

"Come on old man," Kara kept repeating under her breath. She looked at her watch again.

"Six minutes," she said, twitching her fingers in the air.

"Captain, your worrying is not doing any good, and it's making me dizzy," Roslin began, "Listen to me. Take a deep breath…"

Kara looked over at Roslin with a lifted eyebrow. Who did this woman think she was? Kara's mother? Yeah, right.

"It will make you feel better," Roslin continued lifting her chin in encouragement. With a roll of her eyes Kara took in a long deep breath and exhaled it.

"Now," Roslin again spoke. With some difficulty Kara saw her stand up a little straighter. "Tell me something about yourself."

"What?" Kara snapped her voice less than friendly.

"I don't know that much about you. Considering you just saved my life and how you're…special…to the Admiral, I would like to find out more," Roslin replied calmly. Kara knew exactly what she was trying to do. She was trying to get Kara to think about something else. Kara glanced down at her watch again. Three minutes.

"You want to know something about me," Kara began mockingly, "I hate politics and I hate politicians and if I did save your life its not because I like you, it's because it's my job as an officer to follow orders from my superiors."

Kara watched Roslin's face grow colder and she suddenly felt bad for jumping down her throat.

"I'm sorry," she immediately apologized, "I'm just…"

"…worried," Roslin finished with knowing superiority. Kara nodded reluctantly.

"And, actually, I do like you, Madame President," she told the woman and then she shrugged, "I don't know if that really means anything but—"

"It does." Roslin answered so quickly that by the time Kara looked up Roslin had already finished saying it.

"And, away from situations that demand otherwise…call me Laura," Roslin added.

_Okay_, Kara thought with amusement, _maybe she wouldn't airlock you_. Kara eyed Roslin for a moment but couldn't really tell what the woman was thinking. She looked down at her watch.

"Times up," she said with gritted teeth.

She walked to the hatch and peered down the dark grey corridor. No sign of Adama. The alarm was still buzzing. If Kara didn't shut the hatch, then _Galactica_ would be severely damaged perhaps even destroyed. With a sigh she reached out and began to pull the heavy door closed.

"Captain," Roslin's voice demanded attention. Kara turned around to find Roslin standing at her full height, her eyes sharp and her presence intimidating.

"Do not close that hatch," Roslin said, her voice unwavering.

"Believe me Madame President," Kara replied, hesitating to call her Laura, "I don't want to, but it was a direct order, and we would be risking…" Kara had to pause to reign in her emotions.

"We would be risking _Galactica_."

"And I am giving you a direct order, a Presidential order, leave the hatch open," Roslin demanded.

Kara glanced down the hallway, and then back to Roslin. She truly did not know what to do. The last time she had obeyed Roslin's order in direct opposition to Adama's a military coup had erupted and nearly divided the fleet. Kara clasped her hands together in a fist and placed them under her nose as she fought to make the right decision.

"You are absolutely right. Losing _Galactica_ would be detrimental to the fleet but," Roslin's voice wavered just the slightest bit, which didn't go unnoticed by Kara, "losing Admiral Adama would be just as detrimental to _Galactica_."

Roslin paused and Kara let the words sink in.

"The hatch stays open," Roslin finished.

The alarm continued to fill the air with ringing. Every moment Kara let the hatch remain open she felt as if she were betraying the old man in some way. Roslin was a refuge of strength and tranquility as they both waited for destruction of the ship or Adama's return.

As Kara stood next to Roslin peering down the corridor she knew in her heart of hearts, had Roslin not been there, there was no chance she would have closed the hatch until the last possible second, and maybe not even then. She would never give up on William Adama. Never. Having Roslin's orders just made the decision more justifiable.

Then, from far off, Kara could hear the beat of boots on the corridor floor. The footstep grew louder, and stronger, and closer. As if in a dream Kara looked down the hallway, and saw Admiral Adama sprinting toward her.

"You've got guts, lady, I'll give you that," Kara remarked as she reached out to pull the hatch shut as soon as Adama was through. He approached the hatch and jumped over the door frame into the next section. Kara could feel the rumble of the decompression sequence as she pulled the hatch shut. She spun the handle around and heard the airlock snap seconds before she felt the lunge of the decompression shake the entire deck.

Kara turned around with a smile of relief on her face. It was not a smile that Adama shared.

"I gave you a direct order. The entire ship was at risk," he yelled.

Kara was amazed that the man didn't even seem to be out of breath. He was beat up though. He had a cut above his left eye that hadn't been their earlier and his clothes were burnt and torn.

"That was my call," Roslin interjected. "I ordered her to leave the hatch open. I am fully responsible."

Adama turned his heated stare to Roslin. Kara could not help but feel the tingling of relief that she was off the hook; however, she did pity Roslin.

"Is it the continued goal of your presidency to undermine my authority on my own ship," Adama questioned his voice losing none of its force.

"Only when you're wrong," Roslin replied simply.

Kara was surprised Roslin dared speak to the old man in such a way. The president's voice was filled with the utmost respect, she didn't seem to be mocking him, but she wasn't backing down by any means.

"If you lost _Galactica_ tell me what would happen to the fleet?" Adama demanded.

"Tell me what would happen to the fleet if we lost you," Roslin retorted.

Kara watched as the two most influential and powerful individual's left in the universe battled it out with a single look. They stared each other down in a way Kara had never seen. Perhaps, their argument was important, but it would have to wait for another day.

"I hate to break this up," Kara interrupted, "But I think we should get back above deck and get the President to the hospital."

"Yes, of course," Adama agreed with a growl, "Madame President, we will discuss this later."

He gestured for Roslin to lead the way. As Kara followed them through the corridors to the upper levels of _Galactica_ she couldn't help but smile. She had earned some valuable information along with all the aches and bruises. She kept it stored in the back of her mind and she knew already that upon further investigation it would prove useful. It wasn't that Kara wanted revenge on Lee, but he had been acting like a jerk lately, and teasing him about his father's relationship with the President was just too good an opportunity to miss. Her call sign after all was Starbuck, and bucking the system was what she did best.


	5. Being Alive

_Thanks for reading and the reviews! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect. But if I did own, this drought of Adama and Roslin scenes in Season 3 would be over!_

After an hour of sleep and a few more hours in the CIC, Adama marched down to the medical sector to confront Roslin and to check on her. He hated the way he could despise and worry about her at the same time.

"You are one lucky young lady," Dr. Cottle was saying when Adama entered the room.

"Although not quite as lucky as Tory or the reporters who managed to escape in one piece," Dr. Cottle told Laura Roslin, who was sitting with legs dangling over the edge of one of the life station beds.

Adama noticed with satisfaction the Doctor had wrapped her wounded hand properly. He wanted to make sure she was physically well before he tore her a new one for coercing Starbuck against his orders yet again.

"You will regain full use of your hand, but I will warn you the recovery process will be painful," Cottle said and then chuckled to himself, "Although, you do have a rather high tolerance for pain as I recall."

"It's nothing compared to what the survivors of humanity have had to endure," Roslin said. Adama could tell she was weary and shell shocked from the experience but he refused to let the matter before them go unattended.

Tory entered the room with a black notebook in her hands. If Adama hadn't known better he might have suspected Roslin was ready to spring off the bed and bring her young assistant into a motherly embrace. Upon entering the room Tory had the notebook in one hand and her arms folded across her chest. Roslin remained sitting; perhaps detoured by Tory's uninviting stance.

"I'm so glad to see you Tory," Roslin said, giving the girl a warm smile. Adama wondered if, after what he was about to discuss with the President, he would ever be on the receiving end of that smile again.

"Madame President," Tory replied with a professional nod of her head.

Cottle began to leave the room but he stopped and put a hand on Adama's shoulder.

"Don't keep her too long, she needs rest," he ordered. Adama wasn't sure if he felt like obeying that order, since orders seemed to mean very little to the President of the Twelve Colonies. Cottle left the room and Adama stared Roslin down. He was angry and he didn't mind letting her see it. She returned his cold look with one of her own.

Tory glanced down at her notebook, seemingly unaware of the death glares going on around her. She launched right into the briefing.

Adama was irritated with Tory, especially after what the doctor had said. Couldn't the briefing wait until after Roslin had caught up on some sleep? Then again, he was there to resolve his issues with her, something far more strenuous than a briefing from Tory.

"We've begun interrogating a number a suspects but it's difficult to narrow the list given the evidence," Tory reported as if she had personally done the work of Adama's men.

"Narrow the list?" Adama interrupted, "Everyone at the press conference is on the list. We know whoever planted the bombs was in attendance and the target was the President."

"How so?" Roslin questioned, shifting her death gaze away from Adama and looking at Tory.

"We escaped," Tory began, "Because only the bombs in the direction you and the Admiral ran detonated. Whoever did this obviously wanted to keep the causalities to a minimum."

"They had one target. You." Adama told Roslin. "There were six bombs. Only two detonated. The one Starbuck found was meant to go off, and we owe our lives to the fact it was damaged."

"Obviously, the three in the sections we escaped through didn't explode. Which means whoever planted them wanted to live," Tory finished for Adama.

"That could be anyone, anyone," Adama repeated coldly while staring Tory down. Outwardly Tory was self-assured and tough but faced with Adama's presence he was satisfied to see she took a step backwards.

"The Admiral has been holding back on a full investigation," Tory added, her voice not as stern. She seemed to be challenging him. That's why he liked her, she had guts. Just like her stubborn employer.

"Yes," Adama replied coldly, making no excuses. Roslin was thinking. She nodded her head, and Adama tried not to remember that she was a beautiful woman.

"That makes sense. The press of all people are not going to appreciate interrogation. They won't reveal their sources and they won't be cooperative," Roslin said more to herself than anyone.

Tory took her eyes of Adama and for a brief second he saw the face of a disappointed child wash over Tory's features.

"You don't think you'll discover who did this?" Tory questioned Roslin.

"I'm not holding my breath," Adama answered. "Would you excuse us, Tory? The President and I have an urgent matter to discuss."

Tory looked between the two of them and nodded as she began to leave the room with the same professional air she had when she entered. Just as she reached the doorway she paused and looked over her shoulder.

"I'm…The fleet is glad you're both alive," Tory said briskly and left the room. When Adama turned back to Roslin he saw her eyebrow lifted in amusement at Tory's statement.

"You might be right about her," she said, giving Adama a forced smile. They both knew she was trying to avoid the real topic.

Silence suddenly settled over the hospital rooms. All nurses and aids seemed to have disappeared. Roslin tossed her hair back and looked up at the ceiling and then finally brought her gaze to Adama. He didn't let his stony eyes leave her for a moment.

"You're alive and _Galactica_ is safe, Bill, why dwell on it?" Roslin asked her voice low and lined with ice.

"That is twice now, you've coerced one of my officers into disobeying my orders," Adama retorted, refusing to see the logic of her statement. Roslin made no answer, but his words must have gotten to her because she turned her eyes away from him.

"I thought we were past this," Adama growled.

There were times when the fight to save humanity seemed hopeless. This was one of them. He felt he could never trust Laura Roslin again. He couldn't even think about how this affected his feelings for her…mostly because her complete betrayal hadn't changed his feelings a bit.

"I can't do this without you," Roslin finally said, bringing her gaze back to his. He lifted his chin in reaction to this unexpected turn in the conversation.

"This?" He questioned, unsure what she was referring to.

"This, the President thing, leading the people, fighting the Cylons. I can't do it without you," Roslin replied, putting emphasis on the last six words and saying them slowly. When he didn't respond she continued.

"I don't _want _to do it without you. The fleet needs you Bill, and so do I. I can't think of an officer on _Galactica_, including Kara Thrace, who wouldn't have made the same call," Roslin continued.

"Kara would have closed the hatch," Adama retorted.

"I don't believe that. I don't think you do either. I don't think any officer on this ship would have obeyed those orders."

Adama was momentarily unable to speak. The last thing he wanted to admit was that Laura Roslin was probably right. He was more right. Kara should have obeyed his orders. He was in command of his ship and he expected every officer to obey his will without hesitation. However, he knew that even if Roslin hadn't been there Starbuck wouldn't have doomed to die. Life was so messed up.

"You once told me never to question decisions. I know I made the right decision and I will not question it now," Roslin added with a deep command in her voice. As if to seal her words she stood up from the bed and gave him a look that seemed to challenge him to respond. Adama was still angry with her, so he decided to shift the subject to one that would make her uncomfortable.

"The Pythia Scrolls say that the leader will bear the mark of the Gods," Adama coolly stated shifting his gaze toward Roslin's wounded hand. Involuntarily she brought the wrapped hand to her chest.

"You know the scrolls?" Roslin questioned, her eyes focused on a spot somewhere beyond Adama's shoulder.

"I read them when we were looking for you on Kobol. Pythia said the leader would bear the mark of the Gods, depicted in the scrolls as a scar left from the piercing of the hand by the arrow of Apollo," Adama explained.

He watched Roslin's reaction carefully. He never believed all the religious crap he had heard as a child but he knew Roslin did. If she took this as another sign and started believing she was the foretold leader there would be no telling what fanatical actions she might take.

"Coincidence," Roslin stated. She looked directly at him. If she was convinced the injury had no meaning Adama could not tell. Her expression was unreadable. He hated when she looked like that, but try as he might he still loved her.

"Love…" Adama mumbled. He dropped his shoulders a little

"What?" Roslin questioned. Taking a step closer to him. He looked up and saw her hair was more in place and the cuts on her face did not look so threatening. _I love you_ _Laura_. The words almost came tumbling out of his mouth. Almost.

"Nothing…it's…complicated," he said, without giving her the slightest indication of what he was really talking about.

He knew that she knew and here was the battle all over again. Roslin glanced away quickly and then slowly brought her gaze back. This topic seemed to make her more uncomfortable than the two previous ones and Adama had barely even hinted at it.

"Yes, it is," she responded, refusing to make eye contact with him for more than a few seconds. The remained looking just past each other both lost in thought of what ifs and alternate possibilities. Roslin was the first to break the silence.

"We're alive," she told him with a little smile.

He felt some of his earlier anger dissipating. This was exactly why they could never be more than just friends. As a military officer, Admiral of the fleet, he should still be mad at the President for coercing an officer. Her charms as a woman had no place in forcing him to let go of the justified anger he felt.

"Are we?" he asked.

Adama took her uninjured hand in his and pressed it slowly to his lips. He doubted if he would ever get to kiss her in the way he wanted to, so he savored the vanilla smell of the hand pressed to his lips for as long as he could. Although he wanted to gaze up and see her expression, he refused to let the moment go until he absolutely had to.

Just as she had the day she made him an Admiral, Roslin pulled her hand away quickly as if needing to break the trance they had fallen into. When he did look up, to his trained eyes he could see she was on the verge of…tears, maybe…or a confession that would be bad for both of them. She swallowed hard. Adama smiled at her and offered his arm.

She took it silently with her eyes averted and he escorted her out of sickbay. He could not help but wonder…. Maybe, if she lost the upcoming election to Dr. Baltar…

If Laura wasn't president? Humanity might be doomed, but there was potential for life to start anew for William Adama.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't believe I know you," Kara said to Lee Adama as she entered his quarters, his command quarters, aboard the _Pegasus_. She must have surprised Lee because he stumbled out of the chair behind his desk and landed on the floor. If she didn't know better she was almost positive he had his feet up on the desk. A desk and chair he must have added, since Admiral Cain preferred to stand.

"Commander Adama," Kara continued, "This can't be the same Adama would was merely a lowly Viper pilot not six months ago."

Lee scrambled to get up off the floor and suddenly took on a professional military stance.

"It is customary to knock before entering the offices of a Commander," Lee scolded.

"Geez, Lee, you are such a stick in the mud lately," Kara said as she approached his desk and with a little hop sat on top of it.

"And you are unprofessional," he replied approaching her. She saw him reach out as if he was going to physically remove her from the desk and then he drew back, probably thinking better of it. In the old days, Apollo wouldn't have hesitated to playfully force Kara off of his desk.

"Is there any particular reason for your visit, or do you just like to make my life miserable," Lee asked, and Kara hoped rather than was able to detect some of the old teasing cheer in his voice.

"Actually, I was just kinda wondering what you think of your dad and Roslin," Kara chimed. All her effort went into containing the devilish smile that was about to break out onto her lips.

"My dad and Roslin?" Lee questioned, and, just like a typical man, Kara observed, he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Come on Lee, even _you're_ not that stupid," Kara said. He gave her a cocky half smile.

"Thanks," he replied.

This time she was sure he was teasing and she laughed loud enough to fill the room. Lee even chuckled a little and she was glad she hadn't lost the ability to make him laugh at her. Ever since she had shot him by mistake, even since she had come back from Caprica, even since Dualla…things just hadn't been the same between them.

"No, but, seriously, what do you think?" Kara asked after the laughter died down.

"Think about what?" Lee asked, clearly frustrated with Kara by now.

"Do I have to paint you a frakin' picture?" Kara asked with a roll of her eyes. Lee sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. Out of one eye he peered through his fingers at her and she could help thinking he looked cute…no, not cute…more like…hot.

"Kara, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about," Lee responded as he dropped his hand and his shoulder sank in defeat. Kara jumped of the table and onto her feet.

"Okay, okay," she said as she circled around him with a grin on her face.

"This is what your dad wants to do to Laura Roslin," Kara said.

When Lee turned around to face her she took him by the shoulders and drew him in for a passionate kiss. She was annoyed when he pulled away at first but slowly he melted into her embrace. She wanted to make up for past…mistakes, and she hoped rather than knew that this kiss might do the trick.

Lee suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and almost painfully pushed her away.

"Dee," he said.

Kara turned around to see a very irate looking Dualla standing in the doorway with a bunch of papers in her hand.

"Oops," Kara said, without any guilt at all.

What Lee saw in Dualla was beyond her. Kara could understand how she fell for Anders, she could understand how the old man could fall for Roslin, but for the life of her she could not come to grips with why Lee Adama would want a relationship with Petty Officer Dualla.

Dualla marched off in the other direction after saying something nasty that sounded like "excuse me for interrupting."

"Dee, wait," Lee said as he left Kara to go chase his girl down the corridor.

"Fine, don't listen to me," Kara said to herself as she stood only in the empty room. Too bad Lee was being such a jerk. Kara would have liked to get his opinion on the old man/Roslin relationship but now it looked like she would have to keep her ideas to herself. More than ever she wished that Anders was there, although, she wouldn't have shared her thoughts with Anders. No, Lee Adama was about the only person in her life that she could ever share her ideas with.

Kara took a long look around the deserted room. Empty. Just like her relationship with Lee had become.

"I hope you're happy together," Kara spat bitterly. She straightened her uniform jacket and left the Commander's quarters.


	6. Changes

_Okay, so BSG skipped a year in the middle of the series so I figured I could do the same. I thought about posting this separately but it is the same story so I decided not to. Thanks for reading and the reviews! You crack me up with your responses! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

_1 year and six months later…_

For a few brief weeks, everything in Galen Tyrol's life was good. He had a beautiful, sassy wife whom he loved deeply. His son was a handsome, soft milky white assortment of arms and legs usually wrapped in a stained but clean white blanket. Life on New Caprica was over. The bitter cold of the New Caprica wind was replaced by the body heat of a dozen refugees cramped into his once spacious officer's quarters.

He was deck chief again. That alone made things right. The smell of engine grease and the scraping of metal on metal filled his senses like a soothing medicine. Adama was leading the people. _Galactica_ was operating at peak efficiency. Laura Roslin was president and earth was once again within arms reach. Yes, life was good. He never thought it could be after what they had endured.

He left Dr. Cottle's office feeling even better. He had donated blood for the good of the refugees and had been given a clean bill of health by the doctor himself. He stepped into the florescent light of Galactica's corridor. With a deep inhale he started back toward the hanger deck. Yes, right now, life was good.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

William Adama rarely did things against his better judgment. There were times, however, his better judgment had to take a short sabbatical. Such times usually meant his heart dictated his action. The incident a year ago in the vent with Laura Roslin was one instance. He could still feel the heat pricking at his toes as if it had just happened yesterday. He could still vividly see her wild red hair and the cuts on her face but something had changed the memory over the year. Each time he thought about what almost happened his veins were filled with a bitter burning instead of an electric thrill. He never thought about his feelings for her anymore. They were lost somewhere between the time and space between _Galactica_ and New Caprica. He wasn't sure he cared to find them again.

The rescue from New Caprica was another such time his lost his better judgment, although it was a much larger and more dangerous scale, or so he told himself.

Now, in the solitude of his quarters, looking directly into fierce yet respectful eyes he again suspended his better judgment. Lt. Karl Agathon was a loyal solider and a good man. Adama had never questioned that. Perhaps, that is why the young man's request to meet with the President did not fall on deaf ears. Adama knew why Agathon wanted to talk to her. Part of him felt that Roslin deserved to face the consequences of her action. She had to own up to her choices. Helo and Athena now knew the ultimate fate of their child, and Adama could not blame Helo for wanting to resolve the issue with the perpetrator.

Yes, it was against his better judgment, but as often happened, his heart took over. No one could change the past, but Adama knew what it was like to lose a child. He knew Helo would feel better if his anger found a target. Adama tried to convince himself the target should not be Roslin, but he failed to see her as innocent in the whole escapade. With a heavy sigh he reached for the phone and scheduled a meeting with Laura Roslin.

Only a few short hours later Adama slowly stepped through the doorway of Roslin's office aboard _Colonial One_ as he had done so many times before. This would not be a happy occasion and he was sure what was to be said would hurt her. He made up his mind to let things play out as they may and leave her to her own mind. Whatever the Admiral and the President had to discuss could wait for another day.

Once in the room Adama turned and drew his eyes up to face the tall officer behind him. Helo did not hide his contempt. He approached Roslin's desk with three strides of his long legs. Roslin suddenly stood up as if the action could help defend her against the anger in Helo's eyes.

"Permission to speak freely," he asked, addressing the Admiral.

"Granted," Adama said staring at his officer intently.

Strangely enough, Adama did not feel Roslin's life was in danger. Adama had always trusted Lt. Karl Agathon a great deal. He trusted the officer enough even now, to bring him aboard her ship in a state of blind fury.

"How dare you," Agathon began, pushing back his shoulders.

His tone was restrained but Adama could see he was trying his best not to shout at the President.

"How dare you take my baby and lead us to believe she was dead. How dare you think you could protect her better than we could," Helo continued his voice picking up volume as he went on.

"We have done nothing but help you. Our baby saved your frakking miserable life. How dare you frak around with my family! I hope someday, someone takes away the thing you love. I hope you never get it back! I hate you more than I could ever hate the cylons because you are human. You should know better. But you aren't better. Never forgot that. Never." Helo looked as if he was about to continue but Adama suddenly stepped forward and caught Agathon's attention.

"Alright, you've said your piece you're dismissed," Adama gently instructed. Agathon returned to his ridged restrained stance.

"Permission to ask one last question sir," Helo said, with his eyes straight ahead. Curiosity plucked at Adama's interest. He looked toward Roslin, who seemed to be holding up rather well under the slew of insults. Adama nodded his head.

"Do you feel anything, any guilt or sadness for what you've done or is your heart made of stone?"

Helo lifted his chin after speaking. His eyes burned with rage as he faced the President. Adama was suddenly glad looks could not kill or Roslin may have really been in danger.

"I don't owe you an explanation," Roslin said, almost flippantly.

Adama refused to let her get away with being so cold. Agathon had a great respect for her office. The fact the young solider hadn't come here with the intent of ripping Roslin apart bodily told Adama he deserved the same respect he had shown the President.

"I beg your pardon Madame President but I think you do," Adama stated.

Hurt plainly crept across Roslin's features. He watched her take her eyes away from him as if looking at him caused her physical pain. The words he had spoken were taken as a betrayal. Adama stood solid and restrained with his eyes pinned on her. _No, Laura, you're not getting away with this one_, he thought with a deep inhale.

Slowly rounding her desk Roslin came to standstill in front of Helo. Her physical presence was small in the looming figure of Agathon's.

"Do you really think that allowing the child to remain with you would have kept it alive? It was put into hiding as much for its own benefit as the fleets. I have no guilt for what I have done." Roslin's tone was emotionless, rational and very condescending.

Adama felt his heart tighten at her tone and cursed himself for letting it get to him.

Helo shook his head and Adama watched a sneer try not to form on his lips.

"Our baby is not an 'it.' _Her_ name is Hera. Sharon was right. You really are a nutty old hag," Helo spat. Roslin dropped her shoulders back a little and Adama was glad to see at least some of Helo's words were affecting her.

"That's enough Lt. You are dismissed," Adama ordered.

Agathon look his sneering gaze away from the President and his eyes once again filled with respect as he looked at Adama. With a nod and clenched teeth he turned and left the room.

"Was that necessary?" Roslin hissed at Adama the moment Helo was out of ear shot. Adama was a surprised at the anger in her voice.

"Actions always have consequences," Adama replied coolly.

"I know that," Roslin said her tone sharp and harsh. Adama rarely ever saw her show so much emotion when she was angry. Helo must have upset her more than Adama originally thought.

"You don't know," Adama replied his voice calm, "How could you know what he is going through. You've never experienced the emptiness that comes from losing a child."

Roslin jerked her head up to meet his gaze. The fierce anger he saw clearly on her face showed him he had said the exact wrong thing.

"I never expected such a pig-headed ignorant remark from you Bill," she snapped. "Get out of my office. Don't come back until you can talk sensibly."

Laura Roslin had done many things, but throwing him out of her office was one thing he never thought likely. In fact, he was so much in shock that he obliged her in a daze. He was on a raptor back to _Galactica_ before the full force of the conversation had hit him. Helo sat across from him avoiding eye contact and obviously not wanting to engage in any kind of conversation. Adama was grateful because it gave him time to examine what had happened.

Roslin had never been so irrational as to throw him out of her office. If anything he had expected a heated argument about what had happened to the cylon child and an ambiguous but stable resolution. Adama certainly wasn't fully against Roslin's actions as she did have good reason to hide the child. He just wanted to her understand even a fraction of the pain she had inflicted on the parents. A pain he knew all too well.

He looked out the window of the raptor into the deepness of black space. There was so much emptiness in space. There was so much emptiness within the fleet now. Everything seemed empty and pointless. Adama sighed. His thoughts went back to Roslin. Empty and pointless…that's what had become of their relationship.

The conversation played over in his mind once again. Adama knew enough of life to understand that women only acted irrational for two reasons: children and love. Adama was now certain Laura Roslin had an issue with children. Why would a woman who apparently loves children have never married and had her own? She had said Adar was 'safe.' What did 'safe' mean? Was he safe because he wouldn't have wanted children?

As soon as the after effects from the encounter with Helo cleared, Adama decided he would ask her point blank. He usually avoided personal questions when talking to her, but, if it was having an affect on her judgment then it needed to be addressed. Of course, his love for her used to affect his judgment and he had failed miserably at bringing that up. It didn't really matter anymore…she probably never felt the same about him anyway…


	7. Unaware

_The brilliant idea for this chapter came from a friend at 1am after watching Battlestar last Friday. We were quite pleased with ourselves. Hope you like it. There isn't much A/R in this chapter but don't worry it's coming, I promise! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Laura Roslin collapsed into her plush brown chair as soon as Adama was out of her office. She swallowed hard and fought with all she had in her to hold back the tears. The President of the Twelve Colonies does NOT, under any circumstances, cry. Especially not over cylon babies. Over and over she repeated that to herself. Only once did she have to reach up and brush the wetness away from her high cheek bones. She was glad she had because only a second after the tears had gone Tory entered her office.

"Madame President," Tory began as she briskly trod into the office with her eyes gazing down at her notebook. She looked up quickly about to launch into whatever she had been meaning to say but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Warning alarms rang in Roslin's head. Maybe the tears were still visible. Had Tory seen Helo and Adama leave her office? Could she see how the conversation cut her to the core?

"Are you alright?" Tory asked, her voice losing some of the professional assurance it usually had.

"I'm fine," Roslin replied with a forced smile. The harder she forced the smile the more her heart sank. "What did you need?"

Tory lifted her head to one side and eyed Roslin carefully. Concern took over the girl's dark features.

"Dr. Cottle is here to see you…He says it's urgent." Tory trailed off. "Are you sure you're alright?"

The mention of Dr. Cottle surprised Roslin. She had been to see him since the rescue from New Caprica but he had assured her everything was fine. Ever since her cancer the very mention of his name caused her heart to race in fear.

"As far as I know," Roslin told her assistant. It was the truth. For a brief moment telling the truth felt so warm and welcome. Lies of all kinds seemed the only things filling her life anymore.

"Send him in," Roslin said with a wave of her hand. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and brushed the wrinkles out of her pink blouse. Capturing and reigning in the emotions which had overcome her a moment before was difficult but she succeeded. Tory nodded suspiciously and left the room. In the few seconds she was gone Roslin willed herself to remain calm. Dr. Cottle could be visiting her about any number of things. There was no sense in getting worked up over nothing. Just because the visit was unexpected and urgent…

Cottle shuffled into the room and broke Roslin's frightening train of thought. She stood up and rounded her desk to shake hands with the doctor. The action soothed her nerves even though Cottle had a puzzled expression on his craggy face.

"Please don't tell me you have bad news," she said, her voice sounding smaller, meeker than she would have liked. The fear was showing through.

"Oh, no, no," Cottle said, enlightenment lifting his eyebrows, "You are perfectly healthy."

Roslin couldn't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief at the words. _You are perfectly healthy_, she told herself again. Now she could relax.

"What can I do for you doctor?" she asked, her mood suddenly much more cheerful than it had been. This time her smile was genuine. Dr. Cottle only returned her smile with the same puzzled look he had when he first entered.

"We recently had a blood drive," Cottle began. He pulled out a manila envelope and took out a page of medical papers. He placed them on her desk and she approached with her arms folded.

"These are some blood samples," he continued, "The one on the right is yours."

Roslin took out her glasses and looked at the marks on the page. She really couldn't make heads or tails of what it said but she nodded as if she understood anyway. She glanced at the paper on the left. For a moment she studied the pages until she realized that the pattern on each paper was the same.

"The charts look the same," she told Cottle. He glanced up at her with his old eyes.

"The genetic markers are the same, yes," Cottle explained. Roslin narrowed her eyes.

"I don't understand," she told him truthfully. If he had a point she wanted him to get to it. She had other important matters to deal with and she was still reeling from the conversation with Adama and Helo.

"You understand that each human being has unique set of markers within their DNA. The only similar or matching markers are shared between family members," Cottle explained.

Roslin shifted her weight from one foot to the other and took off her glasses. Cottle picked up the piece of paper on the left and began waving it in the air.

"Chief Tyrol came to me during the blood drive. He had forgotten what blood type he was so I ran a test. I thought it was odd because he had a certain genetic marker, fairly rare but by no means harmful. I had recently seen it in someone else's blood sample. I'm getting old so it took me a few days to realize it was yours. I compared your sample to Tyrol's," Cottle said. He set Tyrol's sample down next to Roslin's.

"A match."

Cottle straightened his stance beside her but Roslin continued to look at the samples. Without build up or warning her heart suddenly began beat hard against her chest.

"What are you saying?" she asked her voice barely above a whisper.

"I ran the test, two, three, four times. Each time the same result. Galen Tyrol is a close blood relation to you. Too close to be anything further removed than a father, brother, or…"

Cottle stopped as Roslin moved around her desk to the chair. The room was spinning and everything seemed to become hyper realistic. The light in the office was too yellow; the brown oak of her desk was to rich; the sound of Cottle's breathing was too loud. Roslin put a shaky hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes and collected her thoughts. When she looked up Cottle was standing bewildered with his eyebrows squeezed together and his old mouth slightly open.

"Obviously," Roslin cleared her throat, "The need for secrecy is vital."

"Secrecy?" Cottle asked.

"Tyrol is my son," Roslin said a little more abruptly than she meant too.

Cottle's mouth dropped. Her surprise mirrored his but she held it inside.

"But he's—" Cottle began.

"I became pregnant when I was sixteen," Roslin stated.

Suddenly everything in the room became an irritation to her. As if life wasn't frakked up enough already, now she had to add _this_ to her list of problems. Finding earth, saving the humanity, fighting cancer and staving off accusations and praise for being the religious leader were all too much to deal with. Now, on top of forcing her heart into submission because of her…no, she wouldn't say it…whatever these feelings for Adama were, and she was positively sure she knew the name for them, she refused to acknowledge or admit it…now on top of that she her son…._her_ son, whom she never expected to see as long as she lived was alive. Out of billions of people why did he have to survive? Why did she have to know him?

"I see," Dr. Cottle said, rubbing his chin with his thumb. The sound of his voice startled her. She had forgotten he was even in the room.

"I expect you would like to tell him," Cottle continued.

"What?" Roslin asked, staring into the emptiness of her office. For a moment all she could see was Tyrol's nervous face as he pulled off the cloth from the nose of the blackbird to reveal her name written across it in beautiful white letters.

"Yes, of course," Roslin said shaking off the trance, "I will tell him when the time is right. You must keep it to yourself until then."

"When the time is right? Just when will that be? I am bound by doctor patient rules. He has as much right to know as you do," Cottle argued.

"You are also bound by the orders of the president, but, I am hoping it won't come to that…" Roslin took a deep breath and looked at Cottle with pleading eyes. "I need some time."

"Fine, Laura," Cottle said in his gruff voice. She knew he was showing her he wasn't afraid of her so called 'Presidential' authority by taking the liberty of using her first name.

"But I know you. If you don't tell him soon I will," Cottle finished.

Roslin couldn't tell if he was truly grumpy with her or if it was simply part of his normal bedside manner. He gathered up the papers on Roslin's desk and left the room.

Roslin could only sit and stare out the window. Space was cold and empty. Her life, however, was not. People had come along she never expected to meet, good people; ones she thought about often and with pleasure. Pilots, mechanics, political aids and military officers she might never have taken the time to get to know had the Colonies not been destroyed.

Adama would not have been in her life. He was a man whom she respected, greatly admired and trusted…someone close to her…and now there was someone else...another relationship forced by the situation. Inadvertently her eyes fell to the picture on her desk of Billy. Why had she latched onto the boy? Was she making up for the loss she felt when the agency came to take her own son? Was Chief Tyrol like Billy? She didn't know very much about the mechanic. He had saved her and Tom Zarek on New Caprica. He had once been involved with the Cylon. He had a wife and…a child. _Lords of Kobol_, Roslin thought, _that makes me a grandmother_. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. Life was certainly surprising.

"Tory," Roslin said into the phone at her desk.

"Yes, Madame President," came the reply.

"I would like to take a tour of Galactica's hanger deck to boost moral. The mechanics have been working double shifts since the rescue from New Caprica," Roslin said, which was in fact true, despite her ulterior motives.

"Please schedule something for next week," Roslin stated.

"You already have a briefing scheduled with Chief Tyrol and the Admiral," Tory said.

"Do I?" Roslin asked in surprise.

"I don't believe the Admiral will be attending," she told Tory with a frown. She had a feeling she wouldn't see Adama for a few weeks after what had transpired in her office.

"Would you like me to schedule the tour as well?" Tory questioned, her voice sounded unfazed by the change of the Admiral's plans. Roslin mulled things over for a few moments.

"Yes, thank you," she said and removed her finger from the button on the phone.

Roslin leaned back in her chair. At first finding out about Tyrol had shaken her badly. Now for some reason a sense of calm over took her. For the first time since the fleet had been reunited Roslin felt…happy. Her son was alive and she knew who he was. She smiled and began tackling the mountain of paper work on her desk.

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With hands covered in engine grease and head squeezed between the small opening to the underside of the Viper, Galen Tyrol felt truly at home.

"Frak," he muttered. He placed one finger on a lose bolt and with his other hand reached out from under the ship.

"Vireem, hand me the wrench," Tyrol said, wiggling his fingers. His back and shoulder started to hurt. His temper was short since he had been up the night before with his son, allowing Cally to get some much needed rest.

"Vireem?" he said again. "Davis…Gage?" When no wrench met with his waiting fingers he pulled his other hand from the inside of the Viper and rolled out from underneath the ship. Someone was going to get a lecture.

"Where the hell is everyon…" He stopped his sentence as soon as he looked up. Crewman Specialists' Davis and Vireem were talking to none other than the President of the Twelve Colonies.

Tyrol sprang to his feet. As if it would do any good, he started wiping his greasy hands on his orange deck suit.

"Madame President, I'm sorry, I did know…"

He was too nervous to form any more words. Being face to face with the President always made him nervous. She wasn't like Adama. Adama Tyrol understood. Laura Roslin was completely foreign to him.

The position of President had been the most important and influential of any on the Twelve Colonies before the attack. Although Tyrol knew she and Adama were more like equals, the intimidation of the title still sent an irrational fear through him. To add to it, Laura Roslin was classy. She came from an elite breed of socialites he never felt comfortable around. Every time he saw her a vision popped into his head. She was a debutant guest wearing expensive clothing and diamonds and he was the waiter in a greasy taco restaurant taking her order. The image was difficult to shake.

"Chief Tyrol," the President said, holding out a hand, "It's good to see you."

She smiled and he was blinded by pearly whites. He continued to wipe his hands on his jumpsuit.

"Oh, no, my hands are…" Again, his fear made it impossible to finish the sentence.

"I don't mind," the President replied, still holding out her hand. Tyrol, despite his irrational fear, found this action odd. She seemed like she wanted to shake his hand. He had no choice but to oblige. At least he had gotten most of the thick grease off.

"I didn't mean to disrupt your work," Roslin began, addressing Vireem and Davis as well. Tyrol was relieved the spotlight was off of him.

"I know how hard you've all been working. I just wanted to come down here and express my thanks in person," Roslin explained. Her smile was rewarded with goofy smiles from Vireem and Davis. Tyrol could not help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. Roslin had a way of making people feel needed.

"Okay, okay, back to work," Tyrol scolded his crewmen. They returned to working on the Viper still with goofy smiles and he was about to join them but the President stopped him.

"Chief Tyrol," she said to regain his attention. When he turned around to face her she looked…well…as nervous as he felt. He had never seen her look that way, not even when facing down Adama, which could make anyone lose their cool.

"Yeah," he said, unsure how to act. He put his hands on his hips out of habit. The longer the President hesitated the more nervous Tyrol became. He glanced above her head to see Tory and a few security guards standing near by.

"Your wife and son are well?" Roslin asked finally breaking the silence. Tyrol found the question, just like the President's behavior, very odd.

"Uh...yeah, they're good," he answered scratching his neck where the orange uniform met his skin.

Roslin nodded and cast her eyes toward the floor. Tyrol followed her gaze and found himself looking at her pointy black shoes. _Frak, this is uncomfortable_, he thought, wishing he could go back to hiding under the Viper. Roslin seemed like she wanted to have a conversation for a reason unfathomable to him. Tyrol figured anything was better than staring at her shoes in nervous suspense.

"How's…uh…the presidency?" he asked and fought the urge to slap himself in the forehead at the stupidity of the question. Roslin laughed but her eyes focused on him with delight and sympathy.

_Yup_, he thought, _pity me because I'm just your dim-witted waiter_.

"It has its days," Roslin answered slyly with a large smile still on her face. Tyrol, by this time, was completely weirded out. Did this conversation have a point? Was she ever going to get to it? He had a million and one things to do and the longer he stood there the more sweat he produced and the damper his uniform became.

"The Admiral mentioned you had some items to discuss with me. I believe Tory set up a time next week," Roslin said. At long last she was coming to the point.

"Yeah, I do. Just some minor issues regarding trading parts within the civilian fleet," Tyrol said. His voice was professional and he found the subject of business made being in her intimidating presence less strenuous.

"Perhaps, you and Cally would like to discuss it over dinner aboard _Colonial One_, as a way showing my thanks to you and your crew," Roslin said. Tyrol stumbled backwards in shock. The President of the Twelve Colonies just invited him, _him_, and his wife to dinner! This day just kept getting stranger.

"Uh…yeah...okay…great," was all Tyrol could manage to say. He was sure Roslin was merely smiling at the dumbfounded look he knew took over his face.

"Good. I will see you next week then," Roslin said and began to walk off.

"Alright. We'll be there," Tyrol said.

He swelled with pride in himself for putting together a coherent sentence for the first time since he saw her. Roslin pranced away like some kind of Caprican royalty. _Holy frak! Wait until Cally hears about this. She'll never believe it_, he thought, not sure he believed it himself. He was going to have dinner with the President aboard _Colonial One_. If that wasn't job satisfaction he didn't know what was.


	8. Surrenders

_Sorry the update took so long. The chapters should be coming a bit faster now and I think/hope you will like what is coming up! Thanks for reading! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Roslin wandered out of the noisy hanger deck in a daze. The clanking of metal and rumble of machines was a faint buzz in the back of her mind. How tackless, how obvious, how pathetic she was to trick Tyrol into coming to dinner. When she first decided to pay him a visit she had no intention of doing more than watching her son from afar. And now, _now_ she had gotten herself into a mess the Lord of Mischief would praise her for.

She rounded a corner and stopped before one of the storage rooms near the exit of the hanger deck. With a nod toward her security detail she disappeared from there view. A deep breath flowed from her lips. The much needed moment to herself was helping calm her nerves. Mentally she thanked Tory for being a faultless employee. Roslin appreciated the girl's careful selection of a security detail that could take a hint when to back off. They kept their distance but where never too far away. Right now Roslin was grateful for the moment of privacy.

Once her jumping nerve endings settled she put a hand to her eyes to rub away the embarrassment, anger and frustration she felt fizzing up as she talked to Tyrol. Roslin prided herself of keeping her heart out of military matters, and now, she had willingly invited it to a business dinner. Tyrol posed more of a threat than Roslin initially realized. Her hand fell away from her eyes and became a fist pressed to her lips.

Though she was in a daze, she was aware enough to recognize the raised voices of Lee Adama and Kara Thrace coming from inside the storage room.

"You never would have married Dee if I hadn't married Anders," Kara's hiss carried out the door. Roslin's eyes grew wide and her hand fell to her side.

"You were wrong about there not being an 'us.' And now look at us, we're pretty frakked up Kara," Lee yelled back.

At this point Roslin started taking small quite steps away from the door. The two Viper pilots were having a private conversation Roslin wanted no part in. Before she could maneuver out of range Lee came marching out the door paying no attention when he nearly knocked Roslin to the ground. He mumbled something that sounded like "sorry" and continued his blazing romp toward the hanger deck.

"Oh, great," Kara spat. Roslin brought her attention back to the doorway, in which Kara was leaning with her arms folded.

"I guess you heard all that," she shrugged. Roslin glanced at her shoes.

"You have any idea what it's like to love someone you can't be with?" Kara asked smugly.

Roslin felt her face suddenly become very hot. The hurt in Kara's voice dampened any harsh feeling the President might have at such an ignorant comment. Kara's head whipped around as if she realized what she had just said and to whom she had said it. The Viper pilot's bloodshot eyes pleaded for forgiveness.

"Yes, too well," Roslin blurted quietly before she could stop the words.

Kara's expression softened with comprehension.

_Damn it, Laura_, Roslin thought, fighting the urge to smack herself on the forehead. Kara Thrace was far too smart not to put two and two together, especially after the incident in the vent a year ago.

"What are you doing down here?" Kara asked, in such a way Roslin thought she might have added, _Adama's in the CIC_.

"It's a secret," Roslin told the girl with a wide smile.

The depths of Kara's despair were revealed to Roslin by her inability to do anything but stare blankly. No smile, no comeback, no vulgar remark. Roslin began to worry.

"Sorry I asked," Kara replied.

"I was teasing Captain," Roslin said before Kara could leave, "I came down here to boost moral for the deck hands."

"I heard you and the old man had a blow out," Kara abruptly injected. Roslin's mouth dropped in surprised but she quickly recovered. The blond continued before Roslin could respond.

"Must be running in the family," she said with a defiantly lifted chin in the direction Lee escaped to.

"A word of advice. Don't fall in love with the Adama men," Kara began and stepped into Roslin's personal space. The president could tell she had been drinking.

"…just fraks up your life."

Roslin knew for all her tough outer persona Starbuck was hurt by whatever had just happened between her and young Adama. Before Roslin was sure there were tears coming Starbuck laughed coldly and took off in the opposite direction Lee went.

Standing alone now, in the deserted storage area, Roslin wished there was something she could have done to help the young would-be lovers. Life dealt them an unfair hand. At least she was too old to think about more children, life with a husband, or family. Of course, Roslin hadn't chosen those things even when it would have been easy.

Since the attack the young had a much harder path in front of them. For all it was worth, Roslin adored Samuel Anders, who seemed to have disappeared without a trace, and she wished Kara had not given up on that relationship. More to the point, ever since the, Roslin winced, death of Billy and the circumstances surrounding it Dualla dropped a peg in Roslin's opinion. Not that she let it show, but, young Adama seemed far too…she hated to say 'good' because in this world good and evil were merely relative terms, but it stuck anyway…Lee Adama seemed far too good for Dee.

Now, whatever mess Lee and Kara had gotten into it seemed to be affecting Dee and Anders as well. Perhaps, it was something she should bring up to Adama.

Adama. Roslin placed a hand against the cold metal wall. She had to balance herself. The force of his name hit her like the left jab of a Cylon centurion. Kara had said love.

A jolt of energy surged through Roslin. She squealed in irritation and perhaps, a little excitement. She allowed herself a few tiny swift hops from side to side and shook fists at her side. She hoped the physical action would take her mind away from finally coming to terms with the one subject avoided like the plague. _Laura_, a tiny giddy voice informed her with sick pleasure, _you do love him, ha, ha, ha. You thought you could bury it but it's just too strong even for you to fight_.

"Frak," she growled and then sighed.

First Lt. Agathon, then Chief Tyrol, and now Bill Adama managed to crawl under her skin like an unwanted rash. The worst part of it all was, where Agathon left her feeling cold, where Tyrol had left her dazed and alarmed, Adama left her feeling…good…for lack of a better term…_yes, oh, so good_.

"Madame President, are you okay?" the tall young security officer questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She didn't know how long he had been standing there, but from his expression, which landed between amused, terrified, worried and tickled, he had seen the mini-dance, heard her swearing like Kara Thrace, and seen the smile of… She didn't even want to think about what _that_ must have looked like…

"Just fine," she said in a sing song voice and turned tail quickly to keep from either laughing or slinking into the corner in embarrassment.

She took no small amount of relief in the fact Bill was mad at her. She probably wouldn't see him, at least for a few days. Maybe by that time the out of control feelings she was having could be force back inside. These days she felt like a shaken champagne bottle ready to erupt at any second.

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Adama let his eyes go out of focus as he read the report in front of him. Burying himself in his work had become second nature. Ever since the civilian fleet began to settle on New Caprica he found the only way to drown out his loneliness was with work. There had been enough work to do back when only a skeleton crew was manning the ship. The paper Adama held in his hand was the last remnant of work at his desk and there was still about three hours to kill before he went to sleep.

Adama forced his eyes back to the typed words on the page. He would find some other work to do if he had to. He knew what it would mean to run out of things to occupy his mind. It would fill with thoughts of _her_. Always her. He promised himself during the year she spent on New Caprica he would not let his mind and especially his heart remember her. The strategy had worked until now. The fleet was back together…they were back together. Work was still time consuming but not like it had been.

His hands let the paper drop to his desk. Did she cry after she threw him out, he suddenly wondered. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. No, she wasn't the type. Something about her then…what was it? Adama for the first time in a year let his mind think about Roslin in the way he used to. In the past the technique had been useful in revealing some small fact he usually over looked which offered an explanation to her behavior. Not to mention he had fun while doing it.

Helo had given her a thorough breakdown of his grievances. She had taken it as he expected she would. The image of her disappointed face flashed through his mind. Standing up for Helo had put that emotion on her features. It hurt to see her disappointed.

He wondered if she felt the same way when he scolded her about fixing the election. His grand mistake he remembered with a huff. If she remained president he would have never been without her for a year…_entering dangerous territory Bill_, he warned himself. He had lived without her for a year and like any other addiction; she had been cleansed from his system.

Getting back to the matter at hand, he reflected on why her behavior had struck him as odd. She threw him out of her office, an out of character action but there was more to it. With a shove he pushed off his chair and stood up. All at once the thought came to him.

She only reluctantly defended herself. No lashing out at Helo with a carefully constructed and professionally keen argument, though she did have one. No drawn out lecture for Adama on the finer details of her decision. The fact of the matter was Laura Roslin felt guilty. Helo was right. Her guilt was tearing her apart just like on Kobol. What she needed now was not a verbal tongue lashing, as Adama originally thought, but a gentle reconciliation. Being away from her for a year made Adama a fool in his relationship with her all over again.

"Stupid," he said to himself and pounded a fist on the desk. The sound of his voice rumbled through the room.

Thinking of her in his heart caused problems in their interactions before, and now not thinking of her in his heart had brought about consequences just as bad, perhaps even worse for the fleet. He was bound to lose either way. But if he was going to lose, by hell, he was going to lose his way.

The depression which had settled on his shoulders like a heavy dark cloud suddenly lifted. He stood straight and proud. The air he inhaled gave him comfort once again. Gentle lamp light in his office was soothing and calm again. And best of all, he smiled to himself, he loved Laura Roslin.

"Dad," Lee said marching through the open door of his office. He stopped when he saw Adama's face.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."

"Not yet," he said and saw his son regard him with open confusion and curiosity. When Lee finally closed his mouth he took another few steps into the room.

"What does that mean?" Lee asked absently. Adama continued to smile but didn't respond.

"Here is the latest report from Geta on the FTL drives," he said and handed a print out to Adama. "The _Geminion Traveler_ is reporting trouble with theirs. Before the next jump Geta wants to set over to technicians."

Adama nodded as he looked down through the lenses of his glasses to the paper.

"Tell them they are cleared for launch," Adama replied. Lee bobbed his head quickly and lingered for a moment.

Something as trivial as approving technicians for launch had not brought Lee to Adama's office. From the hidden expression behind Lee's eyes Adama could tell his son wanted to say something more. Adama set the paper down and gave his son his full attention. With his hands clasped in front of him Adama waited for Lee to speak up. At times like these Adama knew whatever Lee had to say was personal. Words were always difficult to come by when it was personal for all the Adama men.

"How…" Lee began and then looked toward the wall. Adama waited patiently until his son's eyes came back to him.

"How did you know, when it was over…with mom," Lee asked.

Adama narrowed his eyes. More often than not Adama stood on shaky ground with his son, especially on that subject. He hesitated to answer for fear of alienating his son and ruining the progress they had made in their relationship.

"When she stopped calling me Bill," Adama answered.

Lee's eyes fell to the floor. Adama saw something like guilt spread across his face. He fidgeted under the soft glow of the lamp light and his hand clenched into a fist. Something was wrong. For the first time Adama suspected it had to do with Lee's wife.

"Do you ever think about getting married again," Lee asked abruptly. Adama recognized it as an attempt to alter the course of the conversation away from his marriage.

"My position within the fleet wouldn't allow it," Adama answered slowly. Lee brought his eyes back up and seemed to hear the words but not take them in.

"Well, good night, Admiral," he said with a stiffened stance, saluted and left the room.

"I do think about it," Adama mumbled out loud once his son was out of the room.

He looked down at his calendar. He and Roslin were scheduled for a briefing by Chief Tyrol in a few days. She probably wouldn't expect him to attend but he wanted to patch things up with her as quickly as possible. Besides, he felt bravery pooling in his chest. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to her and like it or not now was the time.


	9. Confessions

_Again, sorry the update took so long. Between the holidays and ffnet not letting me upload it was far too long. I was about to jump out the airlock :o) This is a pretty long chapter to make up for it! Thanks for reading and all the fabulous reviews!!! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

In all her years spent greeting new classrooms full of students, giving press conferences as the Secretary of Education and later the President, planning the escape from the ice capped poles of New Caprica, Laura Roslin had never experienced the amount of overwhelming apprehension and anxiety she was now. With a violent jerk she smacked the comb down on the table beside the mirror. No matter what she wore, how she fixed her hair, how she stood in front of the mirror, she could not hide the terror and hope plainly displayed in her eyes.

With a loud exhale, Roslin thanked the Gods Bill Adama was still mad at her. She hadn't seen him the past few days and if she had she knew beyond a doubt he would have picked up on her behavior. He always had an uncanny, silent way of sensing when something was bothering her. The unlikely bond they had formed unnerved Roslin at times because he seemed to know her mind better than she did.

Roslin shook her head in irritation and gave up the attempt at making herself presentable. She left her private quarters and entered the flight attendant's kitchen where a make shift dinning room had been set up. The room was used for occasions when it was necessary for the President to entertain important guest at a formal dinner.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Roslin wondered if Chief Tyrol would have ever been among such guests had certain facts not been revealed to her.

"What am I doing?" Roslin asked herself out loud in the silence of the makeshift dinning room.

This was insanity. Maybe her critics had been right. Maybe she really had lost her mind. What was she expecting would happen tonight? Have a nice cozy family meal and for desert inform her guest that she was his biological mother? Of course not. Roslin had already decided not to tell him, ever. She would deal with Dr. Cottle later. Telling Tyrol while she was president would be dangerous for both of them, and she would be president for at least another term. She didn't dare think beyond that.

Despite her reservations she had to know what her son was like. Her maternal instincts which had always been very alert and forceful, would not allow otherwise.

The dinning table consisted of four chairs, but only three place settings had been laid out. There was no chance Adama would attend the briefing, Roslin knew him too well to doubt that. He was still too angry with her to show his face.

"Right this way," Roslin heard Tory's voice just above the sound of approaching footsteps.

Roslin took a moment to breath before turning to face the doorway. Her heart flew to her throat the minute she saw Cally's mop of red hair appear. She was able to calm herself at the sight of the look of pure, classic fear on Cally's face. Tyrol stepped into the room behind her followed by Tory.

"Chief Tyrol, Mrs. Tyrol," Roslin said, shaking hands with each in turn.

Although, Cally's hand was shaking rather well on its own and Tyrol's did not fair much better. _Am I really that frightening?_ Roslin wondered and unconsciously went into teacher mode.

"I am pleased to see you. You both look lovely," Roslin cooed.

Tyrol and Cally, from what Roslin could tell, were probably wearing the nicest remaining set of clothes they owned. Cally's hair was pulled back out of her eyes and her simple dress made her nearly unrecognizable. Tyrol appeared quite distinguished in a simple black dress shirt and slacks.

"Dinner will be out in a few minutes. Good night Madame President," Tory said and with a quick bob of her head toward the Tyrols disappeared for the evening.

"You too," Cally said abruptly, her voice faltering badly. "I mean, look, nice, too, you do…that's what I mean."

The girl quickly cast her eyes toward the ground and Roslin could see her grip tighten on her husband's arm.

Roslin bit the inside of her lip to keep from letting a chuckle at Cally's expense escape.

"Thanks for inviting us," Tyrol added.

By the sound of his voice Roslin was not sure whether he meant it. Suddenly her own anxiety melted away in the wake of her guests fear and…well, flat out horror.

"I'm sorry you had to miss the play tonight. Adama told me earlier he was pleased so many officers decided to attend," Roslin said trying to break the ice. Tyrol nervously stepped a little farther into the room.

"Oh, that's already…I mean, alright. It's not often we get invited to dinner with the…"

He trailed off as if his voice or thought just melted away. Roslin found that hard to believe since there was so much thick ice hanging in the air.

"Have a seat," Roslin answered waving her hand toward their seats, "Tory had the _Colonial One_ chefs fix us something special, though I can't guarantee it will be any better than the rations on _Galactica_."

Tyrol and Cally exchanged delighted looks and their tense stances loosened with Roslin's attempt at humor. Tyrol held the chair out for his wife. Watching the gentlemanly behavior Roslin fought the urge to swell with motherly pride and remark 'that's my son.' The thought jolted her heart back to her throat. Roslin pulled out the chair on the opposite side of her guests.

"Wait, I'll get it, Madame President," Tyrol practically yelled.

Once Cally was seated he rounded the table and helped seat Roslin. He was still very much on edge which is why Roslin would have let the breach in manners slide. Roslin had not planned on such a formal dinner but the tension in the air seemed to demand it. She decided to address the matter point blank.

"Thank you chief, but please," she said as he took his seat, "relax. I didn't mean for this dinner to cause as much alarm as a fleet of raiders."

"You are the President," Tyrol said, as if presenting Roslin with information she didn't know.

"Yes, but as you might have heard, I am human too," she replied with a soft smile.

Tyrol smiled back nervously but Cally just stared with mouth gaping open like she didn't believe.

"Why invite us to dinner with you," the girl asked.

Cally kept her mouth open so Roslin did not immediately reply unsure if Cally had more to say. Finally, Cally finally found the nerve to continue.

"I mean, aren't you busy?"

"Being human, I do need nutritional sustenance," Roslin quipped.

She would succeed in getting them to relax or else crack a hundred lame jokes in the attempt. As she expected the two again only smiled nervously. With a stifled sigh Roslin had a feeling this dinner would be long and painful.

Then something happened she hadn't expected. Her eyes casually drifted toward the door, trying to spare their owner the pitiful sight of the two nervous guests before them. A powerful dark figure looming in the door frame made Roslin start in surprise. Adama.

"I didn't know this briefing was going to be so cozy. I would have changed my outfit," Adama deadpanned.

The mere fact he referred to his uniform as an 'outfit' indicated to Roslin two very important facts. One, he was in a god mood, enough so to joke which meant he had come earlier than anticipated for reconciliation and two; she now had a date for dinner…with William Adama no less. She couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her lips. Adama smiled back. He really was in a good mood. She wondered what had changed his mood so quickly. If she hadn't known better she would have guessed it was a woman. Her temper suddenly and quite unexpectedly flared. _Down girl_, Roslin told herself as she overcame her surprise enough to speak.

"I didn't know you were coming," she said, a little more out of breath than she would have liked to sound.

"I was scheduled wasn't I," Adama asked, his expression changing to unreadable stone.

Roslin glanced awkwardly at her two guests, who now appeared more amused at the miscommunication between Admiral and President than terrified at the dinner experience.

"Yes, but I know you've had a heavy work load lately," Roslin replied, wondering if Adama would go along with the pretense.

"I managed to make time," he said, still in the same detached voice.

Roslin could only watch him closely, trying to find a crack in the wall of stone that had just been put up against her. Maybe he hadn't come to reconcile.

"Admiral," Tyrol said and stood at attention. Cally was a bit slower in her response time but did the same.

"At ease officers," Adama said.

"Would you care to join us, Bill?" Roslin asked, figuring that doing away with titles would make everyone feel a little easier.

"I don't want to intrude, Laura," he answered, glancing at the chair next to her.

"Nonsense, there is plenty to go around," Roslin told him. It was a lie, however, and everyone at the table knew it. There were never enough rations to go around.

"Alright," Adama agreed and to her surprise quickly took the empty chair next to her.

Tyrol and Cally returned to their seats and after only a brief moment Adama began drawing both of them out. Roslin sat back and observed in amazement how two people so uncomfortable in the presence of the President could be so comfortable in the presence of their Admiral. Adama knew his crew well and easily made small talk with the Chief Specialist and his wife and Roslin reaped all the benefits of seeing what her son was really like.

Tyrol ventured so far as to tell a risqué joke or two and Cally seemed to have no qualms about letting the word 'frak' slip into the conversation.

"I mean, even before he went traitor Baltar was a frakking idiot," Cally said with a mouth half full after consuming the last of the food on her plate.

"We are the frakking idiots for electing him at all," Tyrol added.

He turned to pin his eyes on Roslin, apparently forgetting all his earlier fear of talking to her.

"Cally and I both voted for you, and I think anyone with half a brain did too," Tyrol said.

"Well, I take comfort in knowing that a little less than half the fleet has more than half a brain," Roslin joked.

The table was silent for a moment before Tyrol and Cally both burst into laughter. Roslin turned to see Adama smiling brightly at her. She tried to ignore the chill running through her at the sight of such a smile.

"I think you're being generous to the fleet," Adama added and the laughing continued.

Adama placed his fork on the edge of the table after finishing his meal, but it slipped and dropped on the floor.

Roslin barely took the time to notice he pushed his chair back to reach down and pick up the fallen utensil as she was paying attention to Cally.

"I agree, you don't know how hard it was to find a babysitter I trust for tonight. Half the people I know are at the play," the girl said.

"You should have told me," Roslin began, "I'm sure Tory—"

Under normal circumstances such a falter in speech patterns would have gone unnoticed but Roslin was sure Adama knew exactly why she faltered. As he reached to pick up the fork the back of his hand ever so lightly brush against the side of her leg. The feeling was so fleeting it was hardly enough contact to count as a touch.

"Troy…would be happy to help out," Roslin finished.

Adama returned the fork to its place on the table. Instead of facing him to gage his reaction Roslin reached for her water glass and pretended she felt nothing. What a lie that was.

"Thanks," Cally said in response.

"Sorry," Roslin heard Adama mutter only loud enough for her to hear.

His words annoyed Roslin. It was ridiculous for him to have to apologize for something to insignificant. She really needed to get herself under control. He barely even touched her leg at all. He probably didn't even know it he did. _Well, obviously he did know or he wouldn't have apologized_, Laura argued with herself_. Certainly he didn't do it on purpose. Or did he? No, that's not like him…_ Her body was suddenly aware of how close his was. She kept her eyes straight ahead.

"We really should be getting back," Cally said to Tyrol as she slipped her hand into his.

"Thank you for dinner Madame President, Admiral," Tryol said standing, "can we help you clean up?"

Adama stood.

"Thank you chief, no. Laura and I have some things to discuss," Adama said.

Roslin lifted her eyebrows at that. She wasn't sure this late at night she was up for any more discussion of cylon babies or fleet issues. Over dinner there had been success in working out a plan for transferring and trading supplies between _Galactica_ and the civilian fleet, which had been Tyrol's major concern.

"Well, good night, then," Tyrol said nodding to both the Admiral and Roslin and swinging an arm around his wife.

"Thanks again," Cally said and turning to Roslin added, "And any time you want to see that I am right and our son is the cutest baby in the fleet you can just stop by."

Roslin was so completely blown away by how the girl transformed over the course of dinner she couldn't do much more than laugh and nod. As if the President could just drop by and make unexpected house calls on a regular basis. Impossible even if it was to see her…Roslin swallowed hard…grandson.

"Tell me," Adama said, snapping Roslin out of her thoughts.

Tyrol and Cally were gone now, but Roslin wasn't sure how much time had passed.

"Tell you?" she replied, absently staring out the doorway the couple exited through.

"What is really going on here?" Adama pressed her for answers.

Roslin drew her gaze up and looked into his old familiar eyes. She sighed heavily.

"Bill," she began, her voice defeated, "I am so tired of lies."

"Lies," Adama repeated. "I'm tired of running."

Roslin smiled and let her eyes fall away.

"From the cylons," she added for him.

He sat across from her and began piling the plates on the other end of the table.

"No."

He answered as he worked. Roslin watched him openly, trying to guess if he would elaborate or if he would leave it at that. Once the majority of plates had been moved aside Adama turned to face her. He looked different. She wasn't sure why but something about his expression had changed. Never before had she seen his face so gentle except maybe when she had been on her death bed.

"I think you should tell me," he said, staring hard at her.

Those blue eyes cut right through her soul. She hesitated.

"Who else can you tell, Laura?" he asked a bit forcefully.

Whenever he used her name in that way, his way of saying it, she was helpless to refuse. She regarded him carefully, letting her eyes tell him that what she was about to say was more than just difficult or confidential. It was a part of her heart and she didn't give it away without scruple.

"I was the youngest of three sisters. My parents were," Laura smiled sadly, "very wealthy. I don't mind saying I was a spoiled brat."

Adama laughed and Roslin put her hands on the table in front of her.

"You would have hated me then almost as much as you did when we first met," Roslin explained.

"I didn't hate you," he defended.

Roslin lowered her chin and eyed him knowingly.

"Passionately dislike, maybe," he joked.

Roslin smiled and turned her head to one side. After a chuckle she continued.

"I was their star child. My life was one nicely defined road stretching straight out in front of me. Of course, I rebelled. Such foolish behavior when I look back on it now," Roslin halted at this point to study Adama's reaction and to question herself.

Why was she telling him all of this? He had no reason to care or stake in it. He was so easy to talk to and he was right, she needed someone to tell. He knew Tyrol. If Roslin couldn't tell Tyrol at least she could tell his superior officer.

His eyes gently encouraged her to continue.

"I wanted to get back at my parents, and I did. I got pregnant when I was sixteen. In those days, under Caprician law, a minor's rights were forfeit to the parents or legal guardian. There was no way, none, my parents would have ruined my career chances with the responsibility of raising a child. The father wanted nothing to do with the baby so he was given for adoption," Roslin explained.

She avoided looking at Adama. This was the hardest part of the narrative and she wanted to get through it as quickly and with as little emotion as possible.

"I wasn't ready for parenthood. I was far too young. But, of course, I do have regrets. It seems my body has always fought me. The doctors said I couldn't have anymore children. I guess that influenced my decision to become a teacher…hardly a profession my parents approved of."

Roslin stopped speaking unable to fight the need to see Adama's face. She brought her eyes to focus in on him and found that stone wall of unreadable expression. His eyes were soft but because of the stone she saw she knew he was having some trouble digesting the information.

"You said Adar was safe," Adama said to Roslin's surprise.

She was sure he would remain silent until she had told him everything.

"Safe?" Roslin questioned, narrowing her eyes and trying to remember.

"When you spoke with Lee and I about Adar, you said he was safe," Adama explained.

Roslin nodded in comprehension. Her chest tightened and she found it difficult to get enough air. This conversation was personal enough without Adama brining up painful memories and feelings about Adar. The sharp gaze he kept pinned on her seemed to say he was not letting her move on until he got an answer. Why did he always insist on pressing her for answers about Adar? Wasn't she bearing her soul enough with everything else she had told him?

She put up her own wall.

"If I couldn't have children I really didn't see a point in getting married to anyone," Roslin informed him her tone laced with ice.

Adama continued to watch her but she was too upset by the conversation now to divulge the rest of the story. Whatever this hang up Adama had with Adar, it was really beginning to get on her nerves.

"How did you find out?" Adama questioned.

"What?" Roslin snapped a little more harshly than she meant to.

"Tyrol is your son. How did you find out?" Adama repeated.

_Damn that stone wall look of his._

"Dr. Cottle…" Roslin forced the words out through her anger, "He was running some blood tests…and stumbled across it."

Adama shook his head. He didn't seemed shocked, surprised, alarmed, ashamed, nothing! Roslin could read absolutely nothing in his expression. Maybe it was that he just didn't care. If that was the case, fine, frak him.

"I'm tired Bill," Roslin said, rising to her feet.

Adama remained sitting.

"We're not done here," he said, his eyes willing her to sit back down.

"Yes, I think we are," she replied and began to walk toward the door.

He got up and quickly moved in front of her blocking her exit.

"Really, this is childish," she scolded.

"You have a son," Adama said his voice barely above a whisper, "Maybe you don't realize what that means. It will be your greatest joy, even if it hurts."

The undeniable compassion in his voice caused a little stinging in her eyes. She promised herself she would not lose control and in order to keep that fizzing bottle inside from bursting she had to turn away from him. Adama did not move from where he was standing.

"Are you going to tell him?" he asked softly.

"No," Roslin answered simply.

She turned back to face Adama once she felt her emotion where sufficiently under control.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," Adama began, "It's easy. I'll show you."

He now had Roslin's full attention. She watched him with open curiosity. He really didn't do much but stand there and fidget a little more with one of the buttons on his uniform. Adama looked upward smiled and then took a step closer to her.

"You say something like this," he started, "I don't believe in the Gods, but I do believe in you. Your voice is my hymn. Your happiness is what I pray for everyday. Your touch is my heaven. I'm not tired of running from the cylons because you are by my side to lift me up, to center me, to listen. I only get tired of running from what I can't say, what I can't do."

Adama spoke slowly and evenly. Roslin gave up on trying to stop the two or three tears that made their way down her face. She was actually quite proud of herself for not bursting out into a fit like some drunken Ellen Tigh psycho woman.

"Well, of course, I wouldn't say _exactly_ that to chief Tyrol, but, you get the general idea," Adama added with a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

President Laura Roslin fought with all she had in her not to kiss Admiral William Adama. She lost, miserably. Much to her luck, or bad luck, Admiral William Adama saw the assault coming and stop it before it happened.

"You would regret it, Laura," he said softly, his lips close to her own, his hands on her arms.

"I'm tired of lies," she revealed the raw emotion in her voice.

Adama didn't move and she was glad. The warmth of his hands on her arms seemed to make every wrong thing in the world right.

"Tried of fighting," she told him, unable to look into his eyes.

He sighed heavily and she was close enough to feel the movement of his chest.

"We couldn't survive it. The fleet wouldn't," Adama said. "We both know it. That's why we continue to fight."

"Kara told me that Adama men frak up your life."

Roslin smiled as she spoke regaining her dignity and she pulled on hand away from him to wipe the tears away. Adama smiled back lifted his hand to brush away the last tear on her cheek. She held his wrist as he did so.

"I touched your leg on purpose," Adama admitted with a mischievous smile.

Roslin smiled even wider and then playfully swatted him on the shoulder.

Out of nowhere she felt his lips make contact with hers. The kiss he had given her before dying was nothing like this one. This kiss could only mean one thing. Warning bells rang loudly in her mind above the beating of her heart.

_Can't._

Roslin responded to his kiss as if the cork on that fizzing bottle inside had popped.

_Do._

His hands moved to encircle her waist and pull her closer.

_This._

"I am sorry to interrupt," Tory said from the doorway and Roslin felt Adama pull away from her faster than she really knew what was happening.

In fact, he was on the other side of the room before the hands she had around his neck could drop to her side.

When Roslin looked at Tory she felt no great surprise is seeing the girl's unrelenting professional mask still firmly in place.

"I take it this is a recent development," Tory stated.

Roslin exchanged a shy glance with Adama. Of course, the one and only time they let themselves have a fleeting moment of weakness and they have to get caught.

"Very," Adama replied.

Tory looked suspiciously between the two of them.

"So, I am going to have to start arranging clandestine midnight meetings for the two of you," Tory questioned with a much amused smirk.

Roslin tilted her head to one side as she watched Tory. If she didn't know better, Roslin might have suspected Tory was attempting humor.

"Of course not," Roslin answered, suddenly depressed and more than a little aggravated. "What you saw was…"

"…nothing," Adama finished.

Tory took a few steps into the room and placed her hands on her hips.

"Really? The two of you making out didn't look like nothing to me," Tory snipped, "And I'm sure it wouldn't look like nothing to the press."

Roslin's shoulders tensed at Tory's clipped tone. She didn't like being reprimanded like a naughty child by her assistant.

"I'm not trying to force the issue. I realize it's none of my business, _but_," Tory began stalking around the room as if she were giving a lecture in a university, "As your public relations specialist I need to know if the relationship between the President and Admiral has taken an unexpected, though not surprising, turn. We have to take measures to make sure this doesn't get out to the fleet or the consequen—"

"Yes. Tory." Roslin said with her hand raised, "We understand. Thank you. There is nothing between the Admiral and I for the same reasons you were about to name. Now, is there something you wanted?"

Tory's eyes were wide in alarm, and Roslin was pleased to see she had caused the girl to back off a little by her sharp reply.

"There is an urgent call for the Admiral," Tory informed them.

Roslin watched Adama regard Tory for a moment before turning his attention to her.

"Tell him, Laura," Adama said. Roslin rolled her eyes.

"And risk a repeat of the emotional disaster that just happened?" She challenged.

"You wouldn't regret it. With us it's different," Adama said and brushed past her on the way to the door.

Once he left Tory turned to Roslin with a lifted eyebrow. Apparently the assistant knew better than to question her boss again.

"I thought you left a long time ago," Roslin snapped.

"Maybe it's a good thing I didn't," her assistant responded. "I decided to stay and catch up on some work."

Roslin nodded slowly calling on her Presidential intimidation look of steel.

"I trust you will forget what you've just seen," she warned.

"I'm not the one who will have trouble forgetting it," Tory replied, a little more boldly than Roslin anticipated.

With a quick movement Roslin folded her arms in front of her and rooted herself to the ground. She forced herself to relax a bit by looking out the window. Had she immediately reacted, the chair at the table may have been hurled at Tory's head.

"Lucky for you, you're not here to be my conscience or my friend. You need'nt trouble yourself over it," Roslin spoke so coldly she almost expected to see her breath in the air.

From the downward turn of Tory's lips, Roslin knew the girl recognized the words she had once said when Roslin first hired her.

"It just…sad," Tory blurted, losing the professional edge that usually protected her voice from the invasion of emotions, "I respect both of you. I like both of you."

Roslin knew she hadn't meant to reveal so much emotion because of the panicked look on Tory's normally serene features. Roslin forced a smile but she knew it came off frosty and insincere. She wished Billy were alive.

"It's life," she said briskly and left the room.


	10. Their Story

_Another chapter, much quicker this time. Thanks for reviewing. I'm so glad you all share in my love of Roslin and Adama and Battlestar characters in general. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Under normal circumstances Kara Thrace was not one to be caught dead or alive at the theater. To her growing up the theater was something for upper middle class yuppies with too much time and money on their hands. Money that would have been better spent at the movies or in a bar.

Once, when Kara was a girl, her father had taken her to see a Theater-Sing, in which the actions of the stage were set to music and songs. The show starred her father's favorite powerhouse actress and singer, Bianca Marks. For good or ill, it was Kara's first and last experience with the theater. Looking back, the show had been an altogether pleasant experience, but Kara just figured it was because her mother had not been with them and not that she might like theater, especially singing theater.

People who liked theater had a reputation and not one Kara wanted to align herself with, ever. However, everyone in the fleet, her included, was starved for good quality entertainment which was precisely why Kara was showing her face now.

One of the deluxe cafeterias on the _Vespa Luxury Liner_ had been converted into a mock theater. Upon entering the softly illuminated, quite large room, Kara was surprised to see an elaborately decorated stage and rows and rows of seats. If she closed her eyes she could almost believe she was in the Acropolis Auditorium on New Caprica. Her eyes slowly opened. Almost.

Whatever artistic talent remained in the fleet had been scraped together for the premiere of the new play. Despite the tattered hopes of the band of refugees, somehow, the idea of a new play caught on. Moral within _Galactica's_ crew was soaring and Kara was pleased to find her pilots chattering in the locker room all week about nothing but the upcoming event.

Still self conscience about being seen at "the theater" even though everyone she knew was coming, Kara quickly slunk into a seat a few rows from the front. Anders had offered to escort her but she told him she probably wouldn't attend. It wasn't a lie exactly. Kara always tried to avoid public places in which Lee and Dee were bound to make an appearance.

Just as her thoughts were taking an uncharitable turn toward her opinion of Lee's wife, the picture perfect couple entered arm in arm. Kara fought her gag reflex. Noise from muffled voices echoed within the walls of the cafeteria as more and more people began arriving. Most of _Galactica's_ officers received special invitations to be the first to witness the unveiling of the new work. Kara wondered if the playwright had done so because a group of bored military scoundrels was an easy crowd to please.

Kara sunk down in the chair and kicked up a foot on the seat in front of her. When Lee glanced in her direction she turned her head away and smiled at Hotdog, who was approaching from the opposite direction.

"Hey, Starbuck," he greeted, "these seats taken?"

Kara shook her head. She watched him wave his hands at a group of her pilots huddled in the back corner talking loudly, Kat's voice carrying above the rest. The chattering died down when the overhead lights began to dim. The row next to Kara filled up with her legion of fans, who she liked to think of as Viper pilots, though there were times she wondered.

Two rows in front of her slightly to the right she spotted Lee and his Petty Officer. _Petty_, Kara thought twisting her program into a knot, _I could think of a couple of good puns with that one_. She grinned devilishly. Too bad she hadn't seen any vendors selling popcorn. If the play was boring she could make a game out of throwing kernels at Dualla and escaping notice.

After a few more minutes the room went completely dark and everyone waited for something to happen with eyes glued to the stage. Everyone, that is, except Kara. Her eyes were pinned on the back of Lee's neck, and she was sure at any moment his head would burst into flames from the burn of her gaze. She fully hoped he realized she should be sitting by him right now. He should share all of his sarcastic comments and observations about the play with her. She knew he was unhappy. He had barely even spoken to the petty one.

"Stupid men," Kara mumbled.

Hotdog looked over as if to ask her to elaborate but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stage. A single spotlight darted around the stage awkwardly before landing on its intended target. A few chuckles erupted from the crowd. If this show sucked Kara hoped the actors and crew had an escape rout handy. She knew her fellow officers; if they decided to attack it would be close to the devastation of the Cylon attack on the Colonies. The bad thing about officers, although easy to please, beware if you don't.

The man, dressed in a fairly nice suit, one of the few Kara had seen since the attack, cast a hawk eye down his long nose at the audience. Apparently he was not amused at the laughing. His stringy white hair encircled his head expect for a shinny bare spot right on top. Out of nowhere his legs bent and he started dancing around the stage like a crazy monkey animal. Kara was intrigued enough to take her foot off the chair in front of her. A fiddle started playing and the man started singing "swing your partner doe-see-doe." Laughter mixed with groans filled the room.

The man stopped and turned his attention back to the crowd. The music stopped.

"Now that I have your attention," he began in a rich stage voice. Kara leaned forward.

"We want to preface this play, _Saturn and Aurora_, by stating that although it has serious and suspenseful moments, tender and terrifying speeches, good and grim characters, humorous and harmonious antidotes, the point, my friends, is to entertain and perhaps, just for a instant take your mind off your cares and worries and show you a world you've never seen before."

Nearly before he said the last word the theater went dark and less than a second later the lights came on. Every gasped when there was no one on stage. Kara smiled to herself. Maybe, it was the theater that she liked after all. The tattered patchwork curtain lifted and the play began.

For nearly three or four minutes after the last act had finished the entire audience remained silent. Finally, wiping tears from her eyes, Kara Thrace jumped to her feet impulsively and began clapping as hard as she could. From the corner of her eye she saw Lee turn and stare at her as her sole clapping filled the cafeteria. Only a second later did her pilots and the rest of the audience rise to their feet and follow Kara's example.

Everyone had been so stunned by the beauty and terror of what they had just seen that it didn't seem real. The play was more than just a play. It was _their_ story. The story of survival. Of triumph and sorrow. Of all they had lost and all they had gained. It was the story of humanity. Kara looked around her and saw her fellow officers had been moved as deeply as she had. Photographers were already snapping pictures.

Between the waves of affection and cheers splashing upon the stage, Kara had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind when Lee turned to look at her again. The single glance they exchanged took some of the triumph out of the play. The story would be a huge success all over the fleet, there was no doubt of that now. Would the play ever get out to the fleet was the real question.

_Saturn and Aurora_ was such a simple and unassuming title. Kara knew it had been painfully obvious to every single officer in the audience, and all the non officers for that matter, just who Saturn and Aurora were supposed to be.

Saturn, whose name was taken from the god and protector of the peasants, was depicted on stage as a charismatic, handsome older man who stubbornly protects the villagers of his town on ancient Kobol.

Aurora, goddess of the dawn, was played by…Kara nearly gasped out loud, Bianca Marks! The famous actress was older now then when Kara had first seen her and much more battle hardened, as they all were, but she had the air and talent of a once award winning performer. With her trademark curled fiery red hair she brought life to the village priestess guided by visions, which many doubted as false doctrine. The visions guided the people to the Promised Land on the other side of the mountains. Early in the first act an unknown enemy destroys the village forcing the group of rag tag refugees to journey far away from home, their survival dependant on the unlikely alliance forged between the two title characters.

The fact Saturn was William Adama and Aurora was Laura Roslin really had no affect on Kara to begin with. She watched the play with interest, wishing for some popcorn, and shifting in the uncomfortable chair every once in a while. Not until the end of the first act did the similarities between the fictional characters and the people she knew begin to surprise her.

In ancient times, holy woman such as Aurora were forbidden from romance for fear they would lose their ability to see visions. At the point during the play when it became obvious Saturn and Aurora were in love and began stripping down, Kara saw Lee's neck grow bright red and his head fall between his knees. There were a few audible gasps from the audience before the curtain finally fell over the scene just as the two characters were hitting the bed.

Kara managed a shocked grunt with a smirk and turned to look at Hotdog. The expression 'eyes popping out of head' had never been one Kara had a use for until she looked over at her pilot. She leaned forward in her chair, and saw the same expression on everyone's face all down the row of nearly fifty seats.

Now, all fifty occupants of those seats where on their feet applauding. Despite the more controversial issues within the play, it was a carefully crafted touching piece of drama. Kara could tell from the undying applause the play was something the fleet needed. Someone, however, would have to tell the old man. Kara looked back at Lee.

The cheering finally died out after the third curtain call and the lights in the cafeteria flickered on as people started to exit. Kara pushed her way through two rows of people in order to catch Lee before he left. As soon as she was within speaking distance she saw Dee glare at her and mutter something to Lee before walking away.

"Did you want something?" He snapped at Kara.

She fought with all she had in her not to punch him square in the jaw. Her lips scrunched up and she nodded her head with arrogance.

"You gonna tell him or am I?" she asked.

Lee looked over his shoulder and for a moment Kara didn't think he heard what she said.

"I don'tknowwhatyoumean," he mumbled so quickly and softly Kara knew it was a lie.

"I mean, Saturn and Aurora. Frakking. On stage. When it's totally obvious who--"

Without warning Lee latched onto Kara by the shoulders and towed her to a secluded spot near the stage away from the now thinning crowd.

"Not everyone has their mind in the gutter like you," Lee told Kara coldly.

She was so frakking tired of arguing with him. He was such a stupid man, but, hell, he was the only man for her.

"Lee," Kara said shaking her head in disbelief and making sure to pound every word into him, "Listen to me. Everyone will know who it's supposed to be. Everyone.

Mind in the gutter or not."

Lee hesitated and his nostrils flared as he looked at the ground and fidgeted on his heel.

"You don't believe it, do you," he asked.

The question surprised Kara. Her eyebrows squeezed together as she looked up at him. His clear blue eyes, the same eyes as his father, seemed to question her not with anger but with desperation.

"Well," Kara started slowly, not wanting to piss Lee off more than she already had. "I think you're dad and Roslin have a strong alliance, but I don't think they would ever…"

Lee eyes were still looking at Kara with trust and hope and concern. She wanted to ease his worries. She took a deep breath and smiled.

"In the play, Saturn and Aurora endangered the survival of their village because of their relationship. It nearly destroyed everyone. I know, Lee, I know that your dad would never do that, and I don't think Roslin would either. One of us has to tell the old man, because people might think the same thing will happen to us. If we start doubting the leaders of humanity because they might be in love, well, then, we're all frakked," Kara explained.

"Roslin was having an affair with President Adar," Lee suddenly blurted.

Kara could only stare. She thought the 'eyes popping out of head' expression could probably be applied to her at that moment.

"What?!"

She was too confused to say much more. Her hands waved at her side.

"You can't tell anyone I told you that," Lee ordered. "I just, I needed to tell someone. That's been on my chest for a long time."

For a brief second all Kara could think about was Lee's chest. She shook her head like a dog shaking off water. _Focus on Roslin, Adama, trouble, the play… Lee's got a nice chest and he smells really good…_

"Kara, did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, what? Yes," Kara began recovering her senses and pulling her mind out of the gutter so recently mentioned.

"I mean, if she was having an affair with Adar what is to stop her from…" Lee swallowed visibly. Kara scratched her head just above her temple.

"Okay, first of all even if your dad and Roslin were having an affair, I really don't think it would be that much of a bad thing. It's nasty and something I never want to picture, ever, but not a bad thing. Secondly, it will never happen because I know the old man. He's you're father, Lee. I'm surprised you could doubt him. He has too much respect for you, and me, and the fleet and Roslin to ever do something like that," Kara stated. She could tell she got on Lee's nerves with the 'not knowing his own father' speech by the way his shoulder's tensed.

"Well, since you know him so well, why do you tell him?" Lee snapped and started to march off.

"Lee," Kara called out after him. He stopped and turned. His jaw was clenched tight.

"I hate this," she whispered.

Her words seemed to upset him even more. He stared at her with the same desperation before he looked away.

"I have to go. Dualla is waiting," he replied.

Kara was left in the silence of the empty make shift theater. She did like plays, she decided. She didn't like the drama in her own life. With a shrug of her shoulders, she exited the cafeteria and stopped in front of the first phone she saw. The sooner she called the Adama the better. Somehow knowing she wasn't the only one with romance problems made her feel a little better.


	11. Snickers

_Oh my goodness! I just had a heart attack after watching Unfinished Business. I can die happy now! In honor of so much good A/R, Kara/Lee shippyness I'm posting three chapters today!!! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Bill Adama had two things on his mind as he humbly ducted past Tory and toward the waiting phone. One: Laura Roslin was a good kisser…correction; Laura Roslin was a _very_ good kisser. Two: Laura Roslin's voice in his head repeating over and over, _"I_ _really didn't see a point in getting married to anyone_._"_

Adama refused to let his mind run free with either thought as both were extremely dangerous. Laura Roslin had never struck him as a particularly dangerous woman but between cylon attacks, military rebellions, and feelings he had changed his opinion. He took heavy strides toward the phone in Roslin's office. The brief seconds Roslin spent in his arms was like the time spent in the Tomb of Athena, when the Heavens seemed to part and show them the road to Earth. Who was he kidding? What did he expect, really? For Tory to arrange the clandestine meetings she had suggested? Ridiculous and dangerous, the two worst combinations.

After the initial joy of the kiss came the worrying and the regret. He did regret it just as much as Laura would have if she would have been the instigator of the kiss. It was a rash, foolish, immature action like the kind he used to take as a young reckless boy. Roslin had every right to slap him afterward and part of him wished she had. The sting might have lessened the guilt he carried now.

For some reason, he couldn't stand to think of her words about marriage. Her voice echoed in his head and those words haunted him like the angry ghost of an unseen spirit. _"I really didn't see a point in getting married to anyone."_ He tried to bury the coldness of her voice as she spoke those words in the same place he hid his feelings.

Marriage between them was impossible, he knew that with his rational mind but the words still cut him to the core. She would never marry, not even for him. He had thought the cabin by the stream was her promise of their potential life together on New Caprica. That was a time long gone. He thought he had known what she was saying then but maybe he misread the words. He was just another Adar to her. A moron. His hand strangled the phone as he picked it up.

"Adama here," he growled into the phone.

"Admiral it's Starbuck," Kara began nervously.

Nervousness wasn't like her. And no 'did you wake up on the wrong side of someone's bed' comment from her either. Something was wrong.

"What is it?"

Starbuck hesitated. The silence on the other end made the Adama impatient. He knew it had to be important. Whenever Starbuck had something to say she usually just blurted it out and didn't try to mince words. After the crap she had pulled lately, he wasn't inclined to chat with her.

"I decided to venture over to the _Vespa_ for the play," Kara explained.

Adama lifted an eyebrow. This was what was so important?! Kara saw a play? Wow, that would go down in the history books. It wasn't like her call caused him shame and embarrassment and interrupted one of the few good moments he had experienced in a long time. But, Kara saw a play, yes, that was big news. Call the Cylons and alert the fleet, Kara Thrace saw a play. He would be sure to make an announcement when he got back to the CIC. Adama cursed himself for being so bitter and spoke through clenched teeth.

"You have a point?" He asked.

He was in a bad mood probably for the same reasons she had been lately.

"The play was a runaway hit," Kara continued. "Everyone loved it but…"

"But?" Adama repeated hoping the impatience in his voice would encourage Kara to spit out whatever it was she had to say.

"Lee and I discussed it and…" when she trailed off again Adama's short fuse came to its end.

"Direct and to the point Captain," he ordered.

"The play is called _Saturn and Aurora_. You are Saturn and Roslin is Aurora. The two are lovers and nearly destroy the people because of it," Kara explained rapidly.

Adama was silent as he took in the information. As if things weren't complicated enough. Now, romantically retarded Kara Thrace was trying to take revenge for her lack of luck in love by messing up his love life. Well, he wouldn't call it a life, maybe a microscopic spineless organism living on the bottom of someone's shoe.

"Lee and I thought you might want to see the play before you approve it for wider viewing. There is no question people will talk. I'm sure it will be all over the papers tomorrow," Kara said, her voice growing a little stronger.

"Have a copy of the script sent to my quarters and to the President," Adama ordered.

"Yes, sir," Kara answered and hung up the phone.

"Nothing to dire I hope," Roslin's voice said from the doorway.

Adama set the phone down and folded his hands in front of him.

"How do you feel about censorship?" Adama asked.

Roslin studied him with open curiosity.

"I despise it," she said simply, which came as no great surprise to him.

"Hmm," he grunted.

Instead of telling her of the phone call he decided it would be best for her to discover the cause of the important interruption on her own. Besides, he'd had enough talk of their messed up-complicated-beautiful relationship for one night.

"Madame President," he mumbled and left her standing in the doorway of her office with her questioning gaze following him down the hallway.

The night was a restless one from Adama. Too many thoughts filled his mind. When he awoke two hours earlier than he usually did for his shift in the CIC he didn't mind. His subconscious mind he had no control over but now that he was awake he could occupy his mind with work once again. He showered and fixed himself something resembling a cup of coffee, though he hadn't tasted real coffee since the attack on the Colonies.

Once settle with his coffee his sat on the brown sofa in his quarters. He reached for the pile of crisp white paper. When he returned from _Colonial One_ last night he entered his quarters to discover a copy of the play had already been delivered. Kara must have been anxious for him to read it. With giddiness which would have embarrassed him had anyone else been in the room he cracked open the first page.

Of course, the giddiness was nothing compared to last night. Last night he had made a bigger fool of himself than…than Adar when he had publicly apologize for misspelling the first name of his Vice President, George. Pushing thoughts of the previous night aside he leaned back into the sofa and began to read.

William Adama was an intelligent, well read man. He could recognize crap when he read it. This play was most certainly not crap, which made the dilemma all the more difficult.

From the opening battle sequence and escape from the village to the gut wrenching conclusion that nearly moved him to tears, Adama knew he had just read what would go down in history as one of the greatest literary works to emerge after the cylon attack. That was assuming, of course, they had a future long enough to warrant a history.

The real question remained. Does he shut it down because of the conclusions it draws about his relationship with the President?

"This never would have happened if she was a man," he shrugged out loud, but even as he said it he knew no one but Laura Roslin, the woman, the person, could have lead the fleet this far.

With a last sip of the now cold coffee he fortified himself for the reactions of his crew and left his sanctuary.

Although nearly imperceptible, when he entered the glowing green light of the CIC Adama was sure he heard snickers. All looked innocent when he gazed around the room, but unlike the snickers his crew did nothing to hide their ogling stares. The entire operations center fell silent. Adama was tempted to ask, tongue-in-cheek, if he forgot his pants back on _Colonial One_. The crew probably would have believed him so he refrained.

All eyes migrated toward Gaeta. Adama followed the looks and with a nervous twitch the young man approached.

"Admiral," he began, doing his utmost to be professional and failing, "You might want to see this."

Gaeta tossed a newspaper on top of the command center. The white light penetrated the outsides of the paper. Adama narrowed his eyes at the Lieutenant then looked down.

Above a picture of two actors engaging in a sensual lip lock read five words in bold black letters "Adama and Roslin's Secret Love-affair." So much for cutting off the play before the press got wind of it. The word was out now and there would not be much he or Roslin could do except damage control.

He tore his eyes from the page, trying not to think about how the actors' make believe kiss paled in comparison to the real thing. Looking back up he was alarmed to find Gaeta still hovering next to him. Adama gave him a stare that said grow a pair or get back to your post. All eyes in the CIC seemed to be focused on the two of them. Gaeta did not retreat. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his hand.

"Is it true, sir?" He asked.

Obviously everyone on deck was waiting for the Lieutenant to ask the question they all wanted answered. In this case, there was only one course of action. Denial. Adama refused to give them even that much satisfaction.

"Get back to your post Mr. Gaeta," he barked and Gaeta promptly scuffled back to his station like a wounded dog.

With both hands Adama snatched up the paper, crumpled it as loudly as he could and tossed it into a black garbage can.

"That is where trash belongs," he growled at all within ear shot.

Getting his officers to back off had never been a problem for Adama. The press was another story. He hoped Roslin could work her magic spell on them. The thought had been planted in the minds of his officers whether or not they spoke of it in front of him. He knew the locker rooms, flight decks, and mess halls would be abuzz with speculation for the rest of the day. He and the President would probably have to deal with the speculation until something more exciting happened. For the first time Adama hoped for a cylon attack.


	12. Mothers and Sons

_Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

"No frakking way," Cally said as she hoisted Nicholas Stephen Tyrol over her shoulder. Galen was only listening to his wife with half an ear as he tinkered with the wires of one of the mess hall microwaves that had broken down. He was frantically trying to fix it before his shift which started in ten minutes.

"What?" he asked absently, not taking his eyes off the red and blue wires. He was answered with a newspaper thrown in front of him. Tyrol glanced to the side, observed a bunch of actors holding hands and bowing to an audience, and brought his attention back to what he was doing. The headline registered in his mind a moment later _First Play Critical and Popular Success_. Cally must have been disappointed about not seeing it with all their friends. He was a little surprised, considering they mutually agreed dinner with Roslin and Adama had been fun after the initial uncomfortableness.

"Don't worry, I promise we'll go," he assured her.

He heard Cally's frustrated sigh at the same time he felt the sprits from it.

"You're damn right we will," she said, and finally gained Tyrol's attention.

He was a little afraid of her violent reply. Cally meant everything to him which was another way of saying he was whipped and proud of it.

"Listen," she said shoving Nicholas into Tyrol's arms.

He had no choice but to abandon the microwave and offer his hands to his infant child. Cally snatched the paper and unfolded the crease in the middle.

"Let's see…blah, blah, blah…the play is a success…free tickets for all of the fleet…" She began mumbling as she scanned the article.

Tyrol exchanged a confused looked with his son. Nicholas answered with a smile which resulted in a drop of baby drool landing on Tyrol's leg.

"…but perhaps the most intriguing and controversial part of the play does not lay in the religious debates or fickleness of human nature. Okay, here it is, are you listening," she asked, looking at Tyrol from beneath her eyebrows.

Tyrol really wasn't paying attention as he was trying to make Nicholas grin by bouncing him gently up and down.

"Yeah sweetie," Tyrol answered and was relieved to see Cally's glare return to the paper.

"The romantic love affair between the two main characters offers some interesting insight into the relationship between our fleet's very own Admiral and President. The question to be asked is how much of the play is fact and how much is fiction. No doubt, at the next press conference President Roslin and Admiral Adama will be closely watched. Our exclusive coverage will continue blah, blah, blah," Cally read.

"It. Does. Not. Say. That."

Tryol jumped to his feet, swinging Nicholas up in his arms. He leaned over Cally's shoulder to read the words for himself.

"Can you believe that?" Cally asked. "I mean, we just had dinner with them last night! They did a good job of covering it up, but looking back now I can see it."

Tyrol took a step back from his wife and lifted his shoulders.

"You don't really believe this, do you?" Tyrol was shocked.

"Well, it is kind of obvious. The play just puts it in the spotlight," Cally replied.

"No way," Tyrol said shifting Nick to one arm and waving his other through the air as if to push the information away from him.

"Why not?" Cally question.

Tyrol moved his bottom lip up and down a few times before he finally formed a response.

"Because, that would be fraternization," he blurted.

Cally's eyes widened. Tyrol cursed himself for bringing up a painful subject but it was the truth. Adama had let Tyrol get away with seeing Sharon-the-evil for a while before he finally put a stop to it. The old man did not allow such behavior without scruple and Tyrol just couldn't believe he would engage in it himself, with the President no less.

Cally pursed her lips together and took a deep breath. She brush her red bangs out of her eyes.

"Didn't you notice how surprised she was to see him," Cally asked after a moment.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Tyrol answered with a question.

"Then she was glad he was there, like they had some kind of lovers quarrel and made up in front of us or maybe after with left," Cally explained and wiggled eyebrows up and down for emphasis.

Tyrol was momentarily speechless by the implication as a vivid image of Adama ripping off Roslin's suit jacket popped into his mind. He was grateful that's as far as the image went.

"That is woman thinking, Cally, and I don't buy it," he replied when he regained his senses. She rolled her eyes.

"You're such a pig," she informed him factually.

"Yes, but I'm the pig you love," he answered and brought her into a one handed embrace. She pecked his lips and he handed the baby to her.

"Why did Roslin invite us to dinner?" Cally asked as Tyrol sat on the cot and began to pull his boots on.

"She told us, to thank the deckhands," he answered. Cally swayed back and forth with the baby.

"I've been thinking—"

"No way," Tyrol teased, and then caught one of Nick's baby blankets before it hit his head.

"Roslin already thanked the deckhands. That's why you said she visited you that day, remember?"

Tyrol nodded and looked up as he thought about what she said.

"Well, then, the briefing," he reasoned.

"She didn't have to do that over dinner," Cally replied.

"Maybe she just likes us," Tyrol said, not sure what his wife was getting at.

"I don't know. I mean, she was as uncomfortable as we where before the old man got there," Cally replied.

"Okay, then you tell me why?" Tyrol finally gave in.

"I don't know, it just seems weird. It was cool, but weird," Cally answered with a shrug. Tyrol smirked and kissed his wife before he left for the day.

When he arrived at on the flight deck he wasn't all that surprised to find it buzzing with rumors about the old man and the President. He was surprised to find how divided everyone was on the relationship or non-relationship the two leaders had. The chief thought for sure most of his employees would take his view of things and ward off the unfounded rumors. A larger number than he expected wondered out loud if the play was onto something, and that number grew throughout the day. Tyrol refused to join their ranks, but his mind was not at peace either. Cally had planted a seed and it grew within Tyrol as the day progressed. Why had Roslin invited them to dinner?

Laura Roslin let the last page of the play fall silently from her fingers. _Wow_. She leaned back in her chair, pulled off her glasses and let her hands fall to her lap. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _Wow_.

Not at all what she had expected. By Adama's reaction, he phoned her this morning in a panic, she thought maybe the play would be the work of anarchists' determined to stir up the fleet into rebellion. Some else entirely was written on the closed pages before her. The word struck her. Hopeful. This play was hopeful. There was no way Roslin would hinder the fleet from seeing it. Every single human on board _Galactica_, and perhaps even that cylon model of Sharon Valerii, could use some hope.

The single most intriguing part of the play wasn't the hot and heavy torrid romance between the two title characters. Any overly romance obsessed woman with a pen could write that. The most terrifying and enlightening part of the play for Roslin was the way Aurora sacrifices herself to save her people. Why was that intriguing? Roslin put her glasses back on and quickly tore open the pages.

She read Aurora's death scene again. Twice more. Three times. A chill ran down her back. Reading the scene was like witnessing her own death. She gasped and threw her glasses on the table. Right or wrong, crazy or sane, religious leader or hoax, Laura Roslin _knew_ in her heart this is how she would die. Death would come too soon and it would be for the people. She _knew_ they would reach Earth and with the same conviction, she realized unexpectedly, she knew she would not live to see it. The realization forced her shoulders down as if it had physical weight.

"Madame Pres—" Tory began to say as she entered the room but Dr. Cottle appeared from behind and nearly pushed her over.

Tory mouth dropped in shock and said 'excuse you' in a haughty voice. The white haired man ignored Tory and marched up to Roslin's desk. He planted his feet and stared her square in the eye.

"You have one day. If you don't do it I will. I still live by the laws of the Colonies, not your law. I don't care if you are the president. I gave you a week and you did nothing.

"I let your cancer slide, I let the cylon baby slide, but, damnit Laura, I will not let this slide. This is my obligation as a doctor. There are few things I still believe in but duty is one of them. The only way to stop me is assassination and I wouldn't put that beneath you as of late. One. Day." He forced the words on her and then turned on his heel and marched out of the room grumbling all the way. When Cottle's back disappeared out the door, Roslin brought her eyes to Tory and saw a concerned look lodged on the girl's face.

Roslin had to come clean. Lies had become her life and she was sick of it. No more lies. No more running.

"Tory, call Chief Tyrol and tell him I must speak with him immediately, today if possible," Roslin said without emotion.

"Then, arrange a meeting with the Admiral—"

"Madame President, the Admiral is on the line. I was coming to tell you before Cottle nearly ran me down. Is everything okay?" Tory asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Roslin snapped.

"You've been very irritable lately," Tory observed.

Roslin stopped herself from pointing out it was none of her aid's business.

"I've had a lot to deal with lately," Roslin explained, though she felt she really didn't owe Tory anything.

The girl looked down at the notebook in her hands, where Roslin knew her relatively light schedule lived.

"Personal issues," Roslin added in response to Tory's lifted eyebrow.

Tory took a step toward the desk.

"If you need anything…" Tory began but must have remembered her failure to speak to Roslin on a personal level before.

From the beginning Tory had wanted it strictly professional, and Roslin intended on giving her just that.

"Thank you, Tory, that will be all," she stated coldly and nodded to dismiss the girl.

Tory forced a smiled and Roslin spotted a hint of disappointment on her face. The same look she had the day she informed Roslin of the cylon child's death. Roslin knew she had been hard on Tory lately. She would have to deal with that soon, but not today. She had bigger things to worry about.

She unfolded her glasses and put them on before she answered Adama's call.

"Not more concerns about the play I hope," Roslin teased.

"Have you read it," she heard his gravely voice question.

There was tension in his tone.

"Yes." She answered simply and took of her glasses.

"…and?"

She smiled to herself and decided to put an end to his suffering, though she was having fun listening to him squirm.

"I see no reason why the fleet shouldn't see it. It's a fantastic piece of literature but I don't have to tell you that," she said still smiling.

"_Galactica_ and the papers are full of questions about us this morning," the Admiral explained his voice totally professional.

Roslin leaned back in her chair. This was a conversation Laura and Bill would need to work out, not the President and the Admiral. She would need to talk to him as Laura and soon. Much sooner than she wanted but the play was forcing the issues. The press would want a defined answer to their questions and as of now Roslin the President didn't have an answer because Laura the person needed to talk to Bill.

"Yes, we will need to address that, but not over the phone. In fact, I was just about to have Tory set up--" Roslin started but he interrupted.

He knew she didn't like to be interrupted.

"Sharon Valerii has requested a meeting with the two of us, alone," he informed her. Roslin leaned forward.

"What did you tell her?"

"After what you did to their child I'm not about to let her near you. I don't think she would attack you, but I'm not chancing it," Adama explained.

His masculine protectiveness was sweet but totally uncalled for.

"Did she tell you why she wanted a meeting," Roslin asked.

Adama hesitated.

"No."

The statement was cold, brief, and uninviting. Roslin knew something was going on he wasn't telling her.

"Why not? I thought she trusted you. The two of you seemed to have some kind of connection," Roslin said, trying to keep herself from mocking his relationship with the dangerous cylon.

Silence again before she got an answer.

"Her terms were us together or she wouldn't talk. She said it was too important."

This statement was a bit longer but still as cold.

"I don't know about you, Bill, but I would like to hear what she has to say," Roslin gently prompted.

She could almost hear Adama mulling it over in his mind.

While she waited for an answer Tory entered the office with a note she placed in front of Roslin. _Tyrol at 13:00_. The three words caused Roslin's heart to start racing. Only two hours until she had to face Tyrol?! Dear Kobol, she thought she would have more time to prepare herself. She nodded and Tory left the room once again.

"…help if something did happen."

Roslin unfortunately cut out on the conversation with Adama and only heard the last few words of what he had said. She decided to take a chance.

"Of course," she replied.

He was silent again and she thought maybe her answer hadn't made since with his earlier words.

"Alright. Meet me in _Galactica's_ brig at 13:00," Adama said.

Roslin pressed her lips together in relief the Admiral hadn't noticed her lapse in concentration.

"I have a prior appointment at 13:00, and I feel it would be better to invite Sharon to _Colonial One_. She hasn't been in _Galactica's_ brig since the rescue from New Caprica. If she is suddenly thrown back in there because of me, whom she already hates, I don't think it will help my approval rating," Roslin said.

"You drive a hard bargain, Laura," Adama said into the phone, his tone much mellower.

She decided to be a little daring. Getting her own way always made her more playful.

"Yes, but you think it's sexy," she told him.

She heard him grunt and was suddenly very satisfied with her clever flirting. Flirting? Oh boy, Laura and Bill needed to have a conversation soon.

"14:00, _Colonial One_. I'll bring Sharon and Helo," he began but Roslin cut him off.

"Helo? Why Lt. Agathon?" She asked.

The line was silent for a few minutes.

"Were you paying attention to me earlier?" he asked, and she knew full well he was smirking at her.

"Yes," she lied through her teeth.

"I will bring Helo for your protection. He means a good deal to Sharon. If she does try something he will help me stop her," Adama said and paused for a minute before adding, "All of which I explained to you a moment ago."

"I'm sorry, Bill. I was momentarily distracted," she answered.

"Not your Vice President I hope," Adama said in a tone so causal Roslin nearly missed the implication.

Now he was flirting.

"He doesn't hold a candle to you," she blurted without really thinking.

This time Adama laughed. Roslin decided it was time to end the conversation before she made an even bigger fool of herself or said something she might really regret.

"I'll see you in a few hours," she told him and they made their polite goodbyes.

She inhaled deeply and looked down at the note one her desk. _Tyrol at 13:00_. Of all the conversations she would ever have, this one would probably the most personally life altering for both parties. How would he react? How would his reaction affect her? She hadn't let herself think about these questions when Dr. Cottle first shared the news. The more she thought about such questions the more difficult the situation became. At least the torture could only last for one hour. She would have to dismiss Tyrol early to prepare for her meeting with Adama and Sharon.

She filled the time before Tyrol's visit with paperwork and phone calls, though her mind was distracted through most of them. 13:00 came much quicker than she had hoped. As if only an instant had passed since Tory brought her the note, Tory appeared again, this time to tell her Tyrol had arrived.

The Chief walked into the room and smiled when he greeted her.

"Madame President," he nodded politely.

"Tory, please see there are no interruptions," Roslin said to her aid.

"No problem," Tory said, smiled at Tyrol and left the two of them alone.

While Tory was in the room Roslin's true fear remained inside her. As soon as she was alone with her son, however, her throat began to tighten and her stomach cramped. She would have to deliver the news as President Roslin, not Laura. It was the only way she would ever get through this. A mask of cool presidential collectedness took over her senses and she felt herself going numb.

"Madame President?" Tyrol asked, giving her a bemused stare.

His fingers twitched nervously at his sides.

"Please, have a seat chief," Roslin offered and gestured with her hand to the chair in front of her desk.

Her voice was strong, her body was relaxed. Tyrol pulled the chair out a little and plopped down casually. Roslin studied him openly trying to gauge the best approach.

"Is everything alright," he asked.

Roslin took off her glasses and held them between her entwined hands.

"How is your son?" Roslin questioned, smiling at Tyrol and gaining his.

"Just fine," Tyrol said, "You know, he drooled on me this morning but I guess that is to be expected."

Roslin managed a laugh which Tyrol nervously joined in. Roslin was about to say 'I'd like to see him sometime' but her presidential side would not allow her to utter the words. They were too close to her. She couldn't say them and at the same time maintain her nerve to tell him the truth.

"And Cally?" Roslin continued.

"She's fine too. You know, you did just see us last night. We're all fine since then," Tyrol replied a little shortly.

Roslin must have looked surprised by his tone because he shifted to the edge of his chair.

"I don't mean to be rude but I've got a lot of work to do and Tory said this was urgent," the Chief explained.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," Roslin apologized.

The last thing she wanted to do was irritate him by wasting his time. Time was important. She knew that well. Glancing and the picture of Billy on her desk, she pressed on.

"This is a report Dr. Cottle gave to me," she said as laid her hands on top of the manila folder and dropped her glasses to the side. "It will confirm what I am about to tell you."

Tryol lifted his bushy eyebrows.

"You're not…it's not…" he stuttered, barely able to get the words out.

"No. I'm fine," she assured him, trying not to find it incredibly annoying that every frakking person in the fleet had asked her that question. _Everyone is concerned about the health of the President_, she told herself mentally.

"Good," he replied and settled his hands on his knees.

"I'm not sure exactly how to broach this topic, Tyrol," she told him truthfully, "So, I'm just going to spill it. I am your biological mother."

Tyrol pinned his eyes on her and when he turned his head slightly his eyes stayed on her. Slowly a smile appeared across his face. After the smile came a spurt of small chuckles. His head turned from side to side and he scanned the room as if looking from something. He turned around at looked back toward the doorway. Not the reaction Roslin was expecting, though she wasn't sure what she was expecting.

"Holy frak," he burst into a fit of laughter. "You totally had me going, Madame President. Who put you up to it? Hotdog? Apollo?"

"I'm not joking," Roslin said, with a smile on her face simply because Tyrol's roaring laughter was contagious.

"Oh, right, of course your not! Who is it that bet I wouldn't go for it? I'll bet they got paid off good. Kat? No, it's gotta be Kara. She's the only one with enough pull to put you up to it," Tyrol rambled.

Roslin, for all her cool exterior, was beginning to feel the sting of Tyrol's disbelief. The smile faded from her lips quickly.

"Was the old man in on it too? Frak! That was a good one. I've gotta get revenge, any suggestions?" Tyrol asked, wiping a tear away from laughing so hard.

"I know, we could tell Kara Nicholas is really Apollo's son," Tyrol said and the laughing started all over again.

Roslin inhaled deeply and forced herself to push through this. She wasn't counting on having to make him believe.

"Chief Tyrol, I assure you, I am not joking. No one put me up to this, except maybe Dr. Cottle. He threatened to tell you if I didn't. He thought it would be better coming from me. This is his report," Roslin said calmly and held out the report.

Tyrol stared at her with confusion and brought his eyes down to the report she held out. Timidly he took it and set it on his lap as he began to inspect the papers inside.

"They forged a report too? Dr. Cottle is in on it? Kara is a genius prankster," Tyrol mumbled, though he was not laughing anymore, something Roslin was grateful for.

"No one forged anything," Roslin stated.

"You can't be my mother," Tyrol stated so factually that for a split second of relief Roslin believed he might be right.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because, I knew my mother and my father. They were the best people I knew. Raised me from a baby, sent me to engineering school, died in the attack on the Colonies," Tyrol explained.

_Well, peachy_. Roslin thought to herself. _His parents didn't tell him he was adopted and now I have to_.

"They weren't your biological parents," Roslin said. Tyrol shook his head from side to side violently.

"I don't think so," he argued.

"You'll see there the blood test Dr. Cottle ran and—"

Tyrol stood up abruptly and tossed the folder on Roslin's desk. Papers scattered on the desk and fell to the floor.

"Frak Cottle's report," he yelled. "You are _not _my mother. I know you're not. My mother died in the attack on the Colonies. If I was adopted they would have told me. I don't know what kind of sick game you are playing but I won't be your stooge."

Roslin kept eye contact with him for as long as he remained in the room. He turned his back toward her and walked toward the door. Roslin stood up and placed her fists on each side of her desk.

"Chief Tyrol," she called after him but he refused to turn around.

Even after he was gone Roslin remained standing. _That went over like a turd in a punch bowl_, she thought, remembering that was one of her father's favorite colorful expressions. Her father's voice filled her mind. He would have liked Tyrol. She liked Tyrol and she couldn't blame him for not believing her. In one swift stroke Roslin had destroyed all trust he had in his adopted parents, who, from the sound of it seemed to be good people. Roslin took some satisfaction in that.

She looked at the clock. 13:10. Only a moment ago she was concerned about an hour not being enough time. She wished she would have told Adama 13:30. Then she would have less time to dwell on what had just happened. At least now Tyrol knew. The ball, so to speak, was in his pyramid court. All she could do was wait and see if maybe he would come around.


	13. It's Good

_Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Adama did not handcuff Sharon but as they stepped into Roslin's office he suddenly wished he had. He trusted Sharon more than just about anyone on _Galactica_ did save Helo. Still, this was the life of Laura Roslin they were talking about. He knew how much the thought of something happening to her affected him, and, on the reverse side, he knew how much it hurt to learn someone you cared about was responsible for the death of your child. Adama had forgiven Kara, but their relationship before hand had been strong. In order to achieve forgiveness Adama had to muster nearly all of his willpower. Sharon was strong, but was she strong enough to forgive someone she had every right to hate. Adama wasn't so sure.

"Admiral, Lieutenants," Roslin greeted once they stepped through the door.

Sharon and Helo both saluted the President. She nodded in acknowledgement but didn't return the salute. Adama was a bit aggravated at that.

Roslin stood in front of her desk and Sharon rapidly approached her which caused Adama and Helo to exchanged worried glances. Sharon stopped a few steps in front of Roslin and only a split second later Adama was standing by Roslin's side sending a warning glare to Sharon not to try anything stupid.

Sharon was sending her own hate filled look at the President. Helo put his hands on his wife's shoulders and the cylon relaxed a little.

"What was it you needed to speak with us about," Roslin asked, her tone bitterly chilled.

"I want you to know, I would have excluded you if I could have," Sharon replied in the same freezing voice.

Adama was not sure whether Sharon was being considerate or insulting. He decided he better move things along. Tensions were running high. In more than one way actually, as he was standing quite close to Roslin.

"What do you mean?" Adama asked the Raptor pilot.

Sharon glanced between the two of them.

"There are five models we never talk about," Sharon began.

Roslin tilted her head to one side and Adama nearly felt her hair brush his shoulder.

"One of them visited me last night. Model number two. The second human cylon ever created," Sharon explained.

"Cylons aren't human. Why do you never talk about five models?" Roslin stated and then asked.

"I'm not going to tell you what you don't need to know. Two had a message I was asked to deliver to both you and the Admiral," Sharon said, letting Roslin's comment about cylons slide.

Adama was sure Sharon took it as an insult but he was relieved she did press the point.

"Two is in the fleet?" Adama questioned, unnerved to know reneged cylons were running around his ship.

"Yes. But don't worry, Two won't attack you. I'm actually not sure how I feel about being contacted. There are no duplicate copies of Two anymore because we considered that model defective. Human lover is what some of us said. I guess I've crossed that line now," Sharon answered, her voice a little sad.

Adama truly felt for the girl. She had abandoned her own people to save his a dozen times and yet she still had to prove herself everyday. Such was the nature of being a cylon.

"And what does this model Two have to say to us that is so important?" Roslin asked a bit smugly.

"Two knows things about the cylons that even I don't. We are entering a section of space filled with hidden mines. Two gave me this map," Sharon explained and unfolded a small map she had tucked away in her pocket.

Sharon moved past Roslin and bent over the desk spreading the map out in front of them. Adama leaned over Roslin's shoulder to see a wide star chart marked with red dots.

"All the mines are marked in red," Sharon said and backed away from the table.

Roslin turned around and Adama continued to study the map for a moment before he faced Sharon again.

"The Admiral trusts you Lt. Valerii, which gives me reason too, but we know nothing about this Two, who is living among us, who is a threat to our fleet, and we are expected to trust it blindly?" Roslin asked shaking her head slowly and giving the facts boldly.

"You can follow the map or not. I really don't care. I'm just delivering the message," Sharon said, her voice rising a bit.

"Here's another one," Sharon snapped.

Adama narrowed his eyes as he watched Sharon but by the time he guessed what was about to happen it was too late. Sharon's open hand hit the side of Roslin face with a loud crack, nearly sending Roslin stumbling to the ground. Adama caught her arm and with her other hand she balanced herself with the desk.

"I hope you burn in Hell for killing my baby you frakking bi—"

Sharon couldn't finish because Helo had her by the waist and was pulling her away from the President. Adama wanted to discipline his officer but he was too concerned with Roslin's well being to focus on anything else.

"Madame President, are you—" he started but Roslin shook of his hand and lifted her head up to face Sharon.

Adama saw the swelling red mark covering a good portion of her face. She needed ice, and to see Dr. Cottle.

"Lieutenant," Roslin began step closer to Sharon. "You husband has already confronted me on this issue. Let's settle this now. It was never my intention for your child to die. When I was dying I believed the abortion of the child to be the best thing for the fleet, but I am fed up with the two of you doubting my motives. Your child saved my life and if you think that doesn't affect me then you can stop being naive. If you think your child stood a better chance of survival being raise by you out in the open, then being raised in secret you're living in a dream. The cylons were after her, and we kept her hidden and safe for as long as we could. I'm sorry for your loss but it's done now and I have no regrets about it. Is that understood?"

Adama watched Roslin with admiration and a little fear. She certainly had guts when she needed them. This side of her always surprised him but it's what made her different than any woman he had ever met before.

Sharon fell back into Helo's arms and sunk lower and lower as Roslin spoke. By the end of the speech Adama saw tears starting to form in the cylon's eyes.

"You're sorry," Sharon said softly, the tears making their way down her porcelain face.

Helo's jaw clenched as he held his wife.

"All we ever really wanted was to hear you say it," Sharon told the President.

Adama could see Roslin was a bit surprised by the revelation. Calmly and in each other's arms Helo and Sharon exited the President's office.

Silently Adama watched them go and from the way Roslin stood in contemplation he perceived that maybe Sharon had done a bit of good in proving to the President she was capable of human feeling. He turned to see her cheek darkening in color and reminded himself to throw Sharon in the brig for striking a superior officer. Perhaps, not all that much progress had been made. _Too much hatred on both sides_, Adama thought silently.

"You need to see Dr. Cottle," Adama softly said.

Roslin lifted her chin.

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice low.

Stubborn woman. He walked behind her desk and into the next room. He found the ice cabinet and wrapped a few large cubes in a white towel. When he came back Roslin was still standing in front of her desk with one arm folded around her middle and the other on her cheek. She was looking down at the map.

"Sit down," he motioned as he walked over to the couch.

She did as she was told without hesitation. Once they were both sitting he brush her hair behind her ear and gently placed the ice filled towel against her cheek. She covered his hand with hers and he slide his away when she gripped the towel.

"Feel better?" he asked.

Roslin smiled slowly.

"No, actually, that hurt like hell," she said.

Adama smiled and looked down at his hands clasped in front of him.

"Sharon always did have a mean right," Adama replied.

Roslin sighed and let her body go limp as she sunk down into the sofa.

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

Adama looked over his shoulder and saw Roslin slouched down on the couch with the ice on her bruised face. He slouched down beside her and things almost felt like they had on New Caprica.

"The right thing? Sometimes it's hard to know the right thing," Adama said.

Roslin closed her eyes and turned her face away from his. A comfortable silence filled the air. The only sound Adama could hear was Roslin's quite steady breathing.

"I told Tyrol."

He took in the words and let them fill the space between them. This was not a conversation he wanted to rush. So much of their relationship seemed rushed lately. He was enjoying the slower pace and more relaxed atmosphere.

"And?"

Roslin's breathing changed as she inhaled rapidly. He knew before she even spoke things hadn't gone well.

"He thought it was a joke," she said and forced a small laugh.

"He needs time to adjust," Adama said, hoping to sooth her with his words of comfort.

He stole a glance at Roslin and saw her eyes were still closed but her lips were curved into a smile. His head turned forward and he let himself relax enough to close his eyes. If Tory walked in on them again she would probably crap a Viper.

"I wonder if we could ever have a real relationship," Roslin questioned not really to Adama specifically.

"With the way things change in the fleet, anything is possible. I'm hoping to recruit his son someday, you know, make sure things keep running, but I think he's a little young yet," Adama mused.

Roslin chuckled lightly at his joking and then gasped.

"Gods, Bill, that's my grandson," she said with alarm. "I'm too young to be a grandma."

Bill opened his eyes and looked over at her. She was still snuggled into the sofa, her eyes still closed and the small smile still on her face. _When you're that beautiful age is irrelevant_, he thought but decided best not to say it out loud.

"When will you be joining me in that rank?" Roslin teased.

He shifted his position and sat up. He let his elbows rest on his knees. The couch moved and he felt Roslin sit up next to him but he didn't look at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything unpleasant," Roslin said, her tone serious.

Adama ducted his head and began to finger his ring.

"Lee is having some…problems," he replied.

"I know," Roslin admitted.

Adama glanced and saw her looking guilty. She had removed the ice bundle from her face and it rested in her hand.

"I accidentally overheard him talking to Kara," Roslin informed.

Adama nodded and leaned in to look at the bruise on Roslin's face. Sharon smacked her good. Her eye was only a little swollen but her cheek was already turning black and blue.

"How bad is it," Roslin asked, watching him watch her.

"You're going to have a great time explaining that to the press," he said with a smile.

"As if I don't have enough to explain to them," Roslin shrugged.

"The play," Adama said.

She put the ice back up to her eye and shielded her self from his gaze.

"The play," she repeated.

He waited. This was her territory now. He made a fool of himself last night by all but confessing how he felt. He wasn't about to do it again. He wasn't about to be her Adar.

"What do you think about the map?" she asked, changing the subject and doing nothing to hide it.

"It's not a map," Adama said.

This gained a look from Roslin. He saw she was all President again.

"Not a map? What then?" she asked, her one eye was open wide in surprise. Adama shook his head.

"I'm not sure, but, look, I'll show you," he said getting to his feet.

He walked over to the map on the desk and pointed at the red marks.

"This looks like some kind of firewall code for a computer system. I'll have to find out what Lt. Gaeta can make of it," he explained.

Roslin leaned against the desk and narrowed her eyes as she looked just above his shoulder.

"Why would the cylon tell us it's a map," Roslin questioned.

"Why would the cylon lie to Sharon," Adama returned.

Roslin smiled and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"Maybe the cylon didn't trust Sharon or maybe Sharon was lying," Roslin suggested.

Adama took the map and started to fold it hoping that Gaeta could help unlock some of their questions.

"Let me know if I can do anything to help with Tyrol," Adama said before starting his march toward the door.

"Wait, Bill, we have something else to discuss," Roslin said and sat the towel down on the desk.

She folded her arms in front of her. All of the sudden she had become a pillar of seriousness. He waited for her to continue.

"I will have to face the press, tomorrow, actually. I need to know what to tell them, about us," Roslin informed.

"There is no us," Adama replied, and even to his ears it sounded a little heartless.

Like a denial of everything special they had ever shared, which, when he looked back added up to quite a bit. Roslin narrowed her eyes, and lifted her chin in exasperation.

"Let's not be coy," she ordered. "Tory was right. If the press had seen us last night…"

Adama was surprised that Roslin didn't finish the thought. She was trying to pull her high-and-mighty card but she couldn't quite manage it in dealing with something so personal.

"Alright," Adama began, "what is it exactly you want to discuss?"

This was her conversation so let her direct it, he thought not daring to try and steer it himself.

"It's a matter of time, Bill. I think we both know it. New Caprica…"

Again she trailed off, losing a bit of her presidential make up.

"I think we should define the parameters of our relationship," she stated. "If I tell the press there is nothing between us, then I want that to be the truth."

"What other option is there?" Adama asked.

In his mind they had to deny it to the press even had it been true.

"There is no other option," she replied. How typical.

"Fine. I guess where done here," he said.

He wanted to leave now. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was being crushed by the directness of her questions.

"Oh," Roslin said, unfolding her arms and placing them on her hips. A look of frustration settled on her bruised face and she took a few solid in a circle.

"Frakitall, Bill, we are in love. We both know it and we have to deny it to ourselves and to the press."

Adama wasn't really surprised by her outburst or her words. He was able to maintain his cool outward exterior but on the inside he was doing a happy dance. His mind was singing, _Laura just said she loved me! Not Tom Zarek, not Richard Adar, but Bill Adama. That is who Laura loves_.

"Is that so," he asked, not letting her see any of his emotions. That would be far too dangerous right now.

"It's true on my end anyway," she mumbled putting a hand to her forehead.

He waited a beat before answering.

"I think you already know it's true for me as well," he replied.

She lifted her head suddenly and made eye contact with him from across the room. A large smile took over her lips. Adama was helpless to do anything but smile back just as imprudently.

"Okay, now that we have that settled," she began and ducted her head.

Adama suspected she was trying to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck.

"I will deny everything to the press. They might pester us for a while but when they realize the play is a work of fiction and there is no evidence to support it they will back off," Roslin explained as she paced back and forth in front of her desk.

"We just have to make sure not to give them evidence," Adama suggested, surprised at how knowing she loved him made him willing to do just about anything, even give up his time with her.

"For the time being, we need to be sure not to meet privately, unless an aid or advisor is with us," Roslin added to his idea.

"Perhaps, we shouldn't see each other at social events either," Adama remarked, enjoying being in the room with her even if it was to be one of the last times alone with her for a while.

"No, actually, I don't agree," Roslin replied with a bright smile.

Adama wasn't sure how she was about to reason out this one. Solidly he stood his ground and waited for her to impress him. She took the challenge readily.

"If we avoid each other, the press may think we have something to hide. I believe, the best way to stop the rumors, is not only to see each other often at public events, but I think we should attend the play together," Roslin said, in a tone boarding on flirty.

"I see," Adama said nodding his head and smiling slyly at her.

Roslin pretended to be innocent at her words.

"Sometimes hiding out in the open is the best way to fool the press," she launched in again, "If we are seen together, especially at the play, some of the novelty will wear off and the fleet will see we have nothing to hide."

"But, we don't have anything to hide," Adama interjected, making sure to be clear on that issue.

He respected Roslin too much to allow her the shame that would come if they entered into an affair and where caught. Adar didn't respect her enough. Adama refused to leave a cloud of guilt and deceit hanging above her head like Adar had.

"So," Roslin said, meeting his eyes.

"So," he replied, looking at her.

He hoped she could see behind his eyes exactly what he would do right now had he not been Admiral and she President.

"Let me know what you learn about the map," she said and swallowed hard.

"Take care of that eye," he replied.

She smiled faintly, sadly and reached for the ice pack. He walked to the doorway and stopped inside of it. With a smile he turned and looked up from shoe to head.

"You'll need it for our continued eye-frakking," he joked, unable to resist.

He was rewarded with a lovely sight. Roslin leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulders as she snickered. When her head lifted up she gave him the most seductive stare he had ever seen.

"It's good for me too, Bill," she replied.

He smiled and left her office floating on a cloud of good feeling happiness. Tory politely wished him a good day as he walked by her and his sudden bubble of happiness was gone. Truly, the situation was more impossible now that their feelings were out in the open. He doubted if they would ever talk again as they had. Now the facts where known Adama knew both he and Roslin would be more careful in their relationship. Was it better to know she loved him and lose the more intimate side of their relationship or was it better to be constantly wondering but much closer to her? One thing Adama was sure of, there was no going back now.


	14. Questions

_Despite what you may think I haven't forgotten about this fic. I have the entire story mapped out to the end AND I have a few big chapters coming up. Hope you are still interested!! Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect._

Chief Tyrol was in more than just a daze as he stepped off the Raptor and back onto the _Galactica _hanger deck. He missed the last step and tumbled over the side of the ramp. Lee Adama was there to break his fall.

"Watch it," Lee grumbled.

Under normal circumstances Tyrol probably would have replied with something equally as rude to the Viper pilot as that was a game often played between deck hands and pilots. As it was, Tyrol opened his mouth but nothing came out. Tyrol didn't even notice the concerned stare that spread across Lee's face.

"Chief? Is everything okay?" Lee asked tensing his shoulders as if ready to catch Tyrol should he pass out.

"I…yeah, fine," Tyrol managed. "Hey, will you let someone know I'm heading back to the mess hall to find Cally? I'll be back soon."

Tyrol started walking away before he even heard Apollo's answer.

"Sure," came a faint voice from somewhere in the background.

All Tyrol's mind could focus on was finding Cally. Cally would know what he should do. Cally would know how to interrupt the words of the President…Tyrol tripped over his shoe and flung out his hands to balance himself with the wall.

He wasn't thinking clearly. That much was apparent. If he had been, he might have considered the consequences of leaving his post in the middle of the day. He might have remembered a cylon attack could occur at any moment and his expertise would be needed. As it was, one thought alone flooded his mind. _Cally…must find Cally. Cally will know what to do. _

After nearly running over three people in the hallway, and pushing his way through a group of pilots huddled near the mess hall door, Tyrol spotted his wife. She was cursing at one of the mess hall microwaves with each of her hands covering one of Nick's ears. The situation might have made Tyrol laugh, had Roslin not crushed his perfect reality.

When his wife saw him she merely smiled with surprise and excitement then let a cloud of confusion drift across her face.

"Galen," she said in an upbeat voice with a smile. She opened the microwave and took out a steaming plate.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she set the plate on the table.

"The president is my mother," he blurted, his eyes glazing over as the daze overtook him again.

Cally looked over her shoulder incredulously.

"Yeah, right. So, why aren't you on duty," she questioned, completely ignoring Tyrol's preoccupied confession.

Cally set Nick in his makeshift carrier and then seated herself at the table in front of her food. Tyrol snapped out of his trance. He grabbed a chair near her, flung in around and sat down in it backwards. He leaned forward so the back two legs of the chair were in the air and intensely took Cally by the shoulders.

"No, you don't understand. Laura Roslin just told me she is my mother," Tyrol repeated, hearing the real weight of the words for the first time. He still didn't believe it. Cally's brow furrowed as she read Tyrol's expression. He could see the light dawning in her brown eyes.

"Are you…? You're not serious…are you?" Cally questioned, turning her gaze away from her food. Now Tyrol was getting somewhere.

"Yes, totally. She ordered me over to _Colonial One_. She said it was urgent. I just got back," Tyrol said loosening his grip on her and resting his elbows on the back of the chair.

"Your mother?" Cally repeated in disbelief. "But, you have a mother."

"She said I was adopted," Tyrol explained. Cally shook her head.

"Okay, wait, from the beginning, dear. What exactly happened?" Cally asked. Tyrol was so incredibly relieved to see his wife's clear headed brilliant mind already making the situation better.

"Roslin took me into her office, sat me down and said she was my mother," Tyrol explained after taking in a deep breath. The words where finally settling in.

"How does she know?" Cally questioned.

"She had a report from Dr. Cottle. He ran a blood test or something," Tyrol said. His wife looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Or something?" She repeated and then held out her hand, "Let me see it." She ordered him. He leaned back in the chair and the two legs hit the ground again.

"I don't have it," he replied with guilt. He could tell already he was eventually going to have to tell Cally about how irrationally he acted.

"You don't have it?" she drilled her voice rising with her disbelief. "Why the frak not?"

"I…" Tyrol noticed how tight his collar suddenly became around his neck. He stuck a finger under the fabric to try and relieve some of the pressure. It didn't work. Cally folded her arms and impatiently huffed as she waited for the explanation.

"I was kind of…in a hurry to get out of there," Tyrol began; he stood up and noticed for the first time there were people in the room. He might have started yelling but he was sure this was not something people should know about. For his sake or Roslin's. He bent down to speak to Cally in a low voice.

"What was I supposed to do? The woman just told me I was adopted. My whole frakking life my parents never told me. It was a bit of a shock to my entire world. How was I supposed to take that?" Tyrol asked, defending his cowardly behavior. Cally suddenly lost all the tightness encroaching around her eyes. They became soft and she unfolded her arms.

"Well," she shrugged smirking, "It was probably a shock. I didn't even know Roslin had any kids. When did she have you? She must have been young," Cally mused.

Tyrol sank down into his chair.

"I didn't really get around to asking her that either," he mumbled.

"What exactly did you say to her?" Cally finally questioned. This was the question Tyrol was dreading. He had never lied to his wife but oh, how sorely tempted he was now.

"I laughed in her face. I thought it was a joke. Then I…" he trailed off, looking up and seeing Cally's alarmed and displeased expression.

"…called her a lair. I said there was no way she could be my mother. I threw Dr. Cottle's report in her face and marched out of the room."

Tyrol dropped his forehead onto the back of the chair and let it rest there.

"You threw a report at the President?" Cally's voice scolded.

Tyrol nodded with his head still resting on the back of the chair. He heard a loud sigh come from Cally then a burst of giggles, which caused him to look back up. The giggles stopped and she smiled at him.

"We're going to have to put this right. You have to talk to her, rationally, Galen, and I'm coming with you. Besides, Nick probably wants to meet his grandma, don't you Nicky," Cally said turning to attention to the baby.

"You mean, you believe her?" Tyrol questioned. Cally frowned at him as she lifted Nick out of his carrier with a few blankets wrapped around him.

"You don't?" Cally retorted quickly and curiously. Tyrol hesitated.

"It's kind of hard to believe. All of the sudden Roslin has a son and it's me? Who is my father and…and why did she give me up?" Tyrol began questioning.

He wished he had been coherent enough to question Roslin earlier as she seemed collected, calm and willing to explain. Of course, Tyrol could not remember a time when the President didn't seem like that. Her collectedness was the thing he feared most about her.

"We will have to arrange something. I bet the old man would help us, if he knows…of course he would know, they are lovers after all," Cally said with a giggle once again.

"They are not, and why all of the sudden is this your problem?" Tyrol asked harshly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He saw Cally's head drop and her red hair hid her face from him.

"Cally, I'm sorry," he apologized.

She drew back when he took a step forward. With a sigh he slowly lifted her chin up with his finger.

"I just don't know how to deal with this," he said just above a whisper.

"I know," Cally whispered back giving him a gentle hug, "But we will figure it out together…the three of us…and Roslin."

"Yeah," Tyrol said kissing the top of his wife's head. "That sounds good."

He noticed an overhead light flickering and made a note to fix it when he got off duty. Suddenly his sense kicked in and with a hurried step he marched back to the hanger deck.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starbuck was always at her best in the cockpit of a Viper. She knew it and so did everyone else. She steered closer to Hotdog's silver Viper on her left.

"Alright, let's take these frakkers out," she ordered into the helmet comlink.

"Yes, ma'am," Hotdog yelled back with excitement.

The Vipers in formation fanned out in separate directions. Two Vipers trialed the Cylon Raider on the right. Starbuck and Hotdog took the other Raider. The chase took them deep into the blackness of space with the _Galactica_ drifting further from their view. A shutter always ran down Kara's back whenever the _Galactica _floated out of com range. They were on their own now. The old man wasn't going to like it.

Starbuck made a hard right and cut down the distance between her and the Raider. Hotdog was close behind but he wasn't within weapons range. With a grin Starbuck locked her sights on the ugly butt of the metal ship.

"Gotcha," she said under her breath and hit the trigger. The ship split apart and its red entrails floated into space.

"Holy Frak!! Starbuck look out," she heard Hotdog's deafening screech in her ear.

By the time she glanced up in front of her she was nearly face to face with an enormous ship. She twisted her head from side to side. No, there wasn't just one ship there was a dozen…two dozen, and all the time her eyes were registering more and more shinny motionless metal objects in the sky. Starbuck brought her Viper to a dead stop as she examined the ships further. They were cylon, no question, but they hadn't moved to attack her. Her eyes narrowed. They weren't ships at all, they were space stations. As Kara looked to her right she saw they made a line in space as far as she could see. Her dradis screen wasn't picking up a signal from any of them.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the second Cylon Raider speed across the threshold and the Vipers hot on its heels.

"No, wait! Racetrack, Gunny," Starbuck ordered to the pilots but it was too late for one them.

Starbuck stared on with clenched teeth as Gunny followed the Raider into the midst of the space stations. Racetrack's ship stopped just before its nose peaked across the line.

The stations lit up like a Caprican skyscraper in dead of night. Within seconds three of the stations had fired. To Starbuck's surprise both the Raider and Gunny's ship were completely destroyed.

"Damnit," Starbuck cursed at the lost Viper. Quickly she buried her emotions.

"They shot at both vessels," Hotdog said with awe over the static in the helmet com.

The words he spoke were racing through Starbucks mind as she mentally played the scene over. Hotdog was right. The cylon looking stations fired on a cylon raider. Why in the name of Kobol would they do that?

Racetrack and Hotdog were silent. Starbuck knew they were waiting for her orders. The urge to explore the strange Cylon stations overtook her but with a forced turn of her head Starbuck convinced herself not to let the curiosity get the better of her. There would be plenty of time for exploration as soon as she told the old man what they had seen. She would convince him to let her be part of the recon mission.

"Back to _Galactica_, now," she said and turned her Viper around.


	15. The Inebriation

_I love this chapter. I hope you do to!!! Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect._

To Laura Roslin's expectations the press seemed more shocked by the fading shiner she sported just to the side of her eye than by her chosen escort to the play. Apparently the speculation about her relationship with Adama was beginning to lose steam barely a week after the play had premiered.

The lights began to dim as the chatter inside the _Vespa _theater quieted. Roslin knew the grin on her face probably looked ridiculous and it still caused a little sting around her healing eye but it couldn't be helped. She was about to see a play in a theater. One of the things she missed most about the Colonies was the nights she spent at the theater. The lights, the excitement of an eager audience, the thrill of watching a story told with real people only a few rows away. If she hadn't had an excuse to see the play she wasn't sure her busy schedule would have allowed it otherwise.

Though she was loath to admit it, her excitement was also stirring because sitting next to her, as if they were on a date, was the Admiral. The whole scene was far too domestic and comfortable for Roslin to dare dwell on the fact. Besides, she was trying to prove to the press they weren't an item, not show them just how much of an item she wanted them to be.

"I arranged for us to meet the cast after the show," Adama leaned in to whisper to her just before the lights went out.

She smiled again. Being president did have its advantages. Bianca Marks was one of Roslin's favorite performers. Meeting her would be almost as thrilling as sitting next to the Admiral and watching the play.

Roslin was contented next to Adama and found herself glancing down at his hand every once in a while. Part of her she tried unsuccessfully to ignore wondering if they truly were on a date, would Bill have grabbed her hand? Roslin sat up straighter in the chair and mentally shook off the thought. Was she back in junior high?

Despite the comfortable space they shared during the play there was one scene that cause Roslin to, for lack of a better word, squirm. She did squirm, just as if she were watching something inappropriate with her mother looking over her shoulder. Bianca Marks and Jonathan Shipply, the actors playing Aurora and Saturn respectively, held nothing back in the love scene. Reading it on paper had not conveyed to Roslin the full passion of the scene. Before she shrugged it off as overly dramatic cliché romance but as it was acted out in front of her it was not so easy to ignore.

Roslin felt her face getting hot as she remembered that Saturn and Aurora, the two wrapped in each other arms on stage, were supposed to be her and the Admiral, who were sitting awfully close together in the audience. With clenched teeth Roslin cursed her own instinctive reactions. Naturally all eyes of the press where on them. She couldn't risk a blunder now. Either by a stroke of good luck or a twist of ironic fate she was able to channel her embarrassment into frustration.

Frustration. She hated that word. What had Adama said to her during the boxing match? He needed to take out his frustrations. Perhaps next time she should step into the ring and let a few fly. Anything was better than squirming.

The emotional climax of the play did not affect Roslin as she thought it might. Watching her own death on stage only added to her frustration. At least in the play, Aurora ended up with Saturn, even if she did die. Roslin doubted she would ever get that close to Adama.

Instead of an enjoyable evening at the theater like the ones she spent on Caprica she was only left with more frustration than a feeling of fulfillment. Not that the play wasn't good. It was fantastic and to show her appreciate Roslin gave the clearly hard working actors a standing ovation. Adama followed her lead as did the rest of the audience.

The crowd began thinning and Adama gestured for Roslin to follow him backstage. She was just stepping out from behind the isle when she was bombarded by the press. Although it was no great surprise, Roslin's temper was a little short and the long day she had caught up with her. Four reporters spoke at once.

"Madame President, can we get your reaction to the play?"

"Why did you attend with the Admiral?"

"What happened to your eye?"

"Are you and the Admiral a romantic couple?"

With a deep breath and a forced smile Roslin calmly answered each reporter in turn.

"The play was lovely. I hope everyone in the fleet plans to attend. It's hopeful. Beautiful. Clearly, hard work and craftsmanship went into the making. The Admiral and I attended together to show our mutual support for anything that encourages morale within the fleet. My eye can be explained simply, I tripped. And lastly, please for the love of Kobol stop asking me that frakking question. The answer is no, no, no, no. I can't make it plainer."

She knew it wasn't the most diplomatic response, and Tory would probably scold her in the morning but for right now telling the press to back off in such unfriendly terms felt good.

"Excuse me," Roslin smiled quaintly as she pushed past the open jawed reporters and through the stage door.

The press was allowed backstage but none of them dared follow. After her uncharacteristic outburst perhaps they finally took the hint. Roslin walked a little further backstage gaining polite smiles and greetings from an obviously ecstatic group of crewman and actors. When she finally came upon the Admiral he was smiling and chuckling softly at something the petite Bianca Marks had said. Though she tried to ignore it, a little, tiny, minute twinge of jealousy caught her off guard. She smiled through it.

"Laura," Bill greeted, his smile fading when he saw her.

Roslin's shoulders pulled back and she stood more rigidly. It was just her imagination; he probably didn't realize his change in emotion.

"I'd like you to meet Bianca Marks," he said.

The actress was much shorter than Roslin would have guessed and to Roslin's secret pleasure Marks' extremely attractive face was marked by a few wrinkles around her eyes. Of course, Roslin and Marks were probably the same age, yet the actress looked twenty years younger. The woman's dark eyes sparkled brilliantly even off stage.

Marks extended her hand. Roslin shook it a little too firmly and smiled.

"Madame President, the cast and crew are beyond honored that you came," Marks said, awe and sincerity in her sing song voice.

"Thank you. The play was wonderful," Roslin replied trying to match Marks' sincerity and not quite succeeding.

"It is such a relief to hear you say that. Playing a character based on a real person and having that person in the audience watching you is a bit nerve racking. I usually don't like to know when critics or other celebrities are in the audience," Marks explained splitting her attention between Adama and Roslin.

"You gave a great performance," Adama told her much to Roslin's surprise. This was not a man who gave compliments often.

"Thank you Admiral. Wouldn't you know, my biggest critic, Horton Drake survived the attacks and even he said if awards were still around I would have finally snatched a Caprican Theater Statuette. Oh well, can't win them all," Marks replied and Adama again smiled at her.

"Laura, did you know that Bianca and Jonathan Shipply wrote the play as well as acting in it?" Adama asked.

Roslin maintained her smile though the sincerity of it was leaking away and she couldn't figure out why. He called her Bianca. They were on a first name basis?

"No I didn't. It seems you would have won an acting award as well as writing," Roslin managed to say.

Marks smiled brilliantly and her whole face seemed to rise up to a new level of beauty.

"I hope…neither of you were offended at the relationship between Saturn and Aurora. The drama there was just too good for us to pass up, though I know we raised a few eyebrows with the press," Marks said carefully and slowly.

"Not at all," Adama answered before Roslin had a chance to, "The President and I have nothing to hide. Besides, Bianca Marks wouldn't be Bianca Marks if she didn't get her man."

The smile dropped from Roslin's face completely. Were they flirting!? Bill Adama was flirting with another woman in front of her? After they had just confessed their feelings? Of all the pig headed, arrogant, self righteous, lying hypocrites…

"Thank you Admiral. Can I buy you a drink? I mean both of you. The _Vespa's_ bar is just down the hall," Marks asked after her music like laughter ceased.

"Certainly," Adama again spoke before Roslin could. The two turned to look at Roslin.

"I could use a drink," she muttered giving Adama a death glare to which he seemed oblivious.

Maybe if his eyes hadn't been blinded with stars he could have seen it. Adama nodded and offered his arm to Marks. Roslin clenched her teeth and followed behind them to the bar. This night just kept getting worse.

The bar was crowded and noisy. In one dark corner Roslin spotted a group of off duty Viper pilots and at the bar were a few members of the press. Marks lead them to dark booth near the rear of the bar. At least the actress knew how to keep herself unseen by prying eyes. Roslin wasn't sure being seen in a bar of this nature would be good for her reputation but she needed a drink. Marks gracefully slide into the booth and Adama sat next to her. Roslin was desperate for a drink.

Roslin figured because Bianca Marks spent the better part of the night flirting with Adama she didn't have time to consume the amount of ambrosia Roslin was able to. After her third full to the brim glass Roslin knew she needed to stop but the constant flirting drove her to it. The ambrosia drowned out the sound of Bianca's rich laughter and blurred the all-too-pleased-with-himself smile Adama wore. Her frustrations didn't seem so…she giggled to herself…frustrating, and the tension building in her shoulders disappeared with her inhibitions.

"Of course, we never would have gotten anywhere if not for Dr. Roslin's support on the education side," Roslin heard Bianca saying to Adama.

"I remember that," Adama replied, "It was a planet wide campaign for the arts in education."

"I was only disappointed I never got to meet the Secretary of Education in person," Marks said with a pleasant smile toward Roslin.

Though she tried to smile back Roslin was sure her lips curled into a sneer.

"I'm sure she was too," Adama said for Roslin.

She was really getting fed up with his putting words in her mouth. Marks' pleasant smile was directed back at Adama. Roslin took advantage of the silence by snagging a waiter walking past them.

"Could I get another," Roslin asked, proud of herself for not slurring any of the words.

She'd lost count of how many she'd had quite a while ago though she was sure the number was tallying up to four or five.

The waiter looked surprised and seemed to use his eyes to silently ask Adama for permission. The simple gesture might have been sweet under any other circumstances but right now the look only helped make Roslin more belligerent.

"I think you've had enough," Adama said with a stern low voice.

Roslin narrowed her eyes and glared intensely at the man sitting across from her.

"Oh, you do," she began, "Well, I can still see you so I obviously haven't had enough."

Roslin waved her hand for the boy to go get her another drink. When he just stared with wide eyes she sat a bit straighter.

"Do you need a Presidential decree? Go," she said and the waiter obeyed with even wider eyes.

"I apologize, Bianca. The President is usually civil, even pleasant, but not tonight," Adama told the actress.

"Be warned, Bi-an-ca. The Admiral is a typical man. Have at if you dare," Roslin replied, her voice mocking the actress' name.

"What exactly does that mean?" Adama questioned, his voice growing lower and more controlled with the passing conversation.

Roslin slouched in her seat and grabbed hold of the empty glass in front of her looking down into the pit of drunken despair.

"It means the play is a lie," she replied more to herself than the two others at the table with her.

"I don't think it's a lie," Marks began with seriousness, "I believe whole heartedly that you are the leader of the Prophesy."

As if Roslin didn't have enough reasons already to like the woman Adama was flirting with, now she had to go and play the religious card. The waiter returned to the table with another glass and instead of replying Roslin took a large sip.

"In fact," Marks continued despite Roslin's lack of attention, "Our belief in you was what inspired the play in the first place. You determination to find Earth gives the fleet the hope that we need to survive."

Perhaps Bianca's words were sincere but Roslin really didn't hear much after the word 'inspired.' Adama's entire visage was becoming more of a blur with each passing minute.

"What does any of it matter?" Roslin asked. "Bill doesn't believe in the Prophesy. He thinks it's a hoax. That will cause some martial problems for you two." Roslin giggled to herself.

Adama exchanged a looked with Marks that Roslin didn't pick up on.

"Madame President, I think we should get you back to your ship before you embarrass yourself further," Adama said as he got to his feet.

"Bianca I apologize for this evening. The play was lovely and as soon as the President is feeling herself I'm sure you will receive an apology from her."

"The hell she will," Roslin muttered into her glass again, "man stealer."

Bianca gracefully lifted to her feet and with a smile at the Admiral shook hands with him. Roslin lifted her eyes enough to see the action and then finished off the last of her drink.

"This evening was very…enlightening," Marks said, "Would you like some help with the President?"

"No. Leave her to me," he growled and Roslin rolled her eyes at his machoism.

"Well, then, goodnight Admiral, Madame President," Marks said with a nod and walked off elegantly.

Adama watched her go.

"I thought for sure you were going to invite her back to your place," Roslin snapped.

Adama's expression when he turned to her was one she remembered from long ago, when they had first met and he told her he wouldn't allow networked computers on his ship.

"Get. Up. Now."

The sheer force in his voice caused Roslin to swallow hard and sobered her just enough to make her obey his command. Once on her feet she was far too wobbly to stand. Adama's hand held her up by the waist.

"You're going back to _Colonial One_ and hiding until you're sober again," Adama ordered.

Roslin's response was a giggle. He really was cute when he was angry. His eye twitched just a little and his mouth was tight.

"Yes, sir, Admiral," she mocked with a giggle and brought her hand up to give him a salute. The movement made her loose her balance and fall onto him.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice still a growl.

Roslin smiled. For some reason everything the Admiral said to her seemed funny.

"It all stems back to my childhood," she said and then laughed wildly at her own joke.

Not only did Adama not laugh but he started moving toward the direction of the hanger deck. Roslin giggled all the way down the hall and was irritated at the Admiral when he wouldn't let her stop to talk to people passing by. She always felt she didn't get out enough and mingle with the civilian fleet and this was the perfect opportunity.

Once inside the hanger deck Adama leaned Roslin up against a wall and disappeared out of view. When he returned after what seemed like forever Roslin threw her arms around his neck and hugged him like he was a giant fluffy bear toy.

"Don't breathe on me," the Admiral ordered grabbing Roslin by the arms and pushing her off him.

Roslin smirked and then smiled quaintly.

"What? You're not going to invite me back to your place either?" she asked and then giggled again.

Adama finally cracked a smile and brushed his over Roslin's cheek.

"You are going to hate yourself in the morning," he said, almost as if he was taking pleasure in her misery to come.

"Yes, but right now I love you," she said taking a step closer to him. "Who cares about the morning? Let's just live in this moment Bill."

Roslin leaned in with her lips ready and tried to will Bill into kissing her but he didn't move. She pushed on his chest with her hands and her expression turned cold.

"I know, you'd rather be with Bianca Marks right now," Roslin hissed.

Nearly before she had spoken the words Adama latched on to her by the wrists and with a grunt drug her to the waiting shuttle. Adama practically lifted the inebriated Roslin up through the open door of the raptor. The young pilot, who just happened to be an off duty Hotdog Adama snagged for this 'special' mission, stared at Roslin with jaw open until a look from Adama made him close it quickly.

"I told you the President wasn't feeling like herself tonight," Adama explained.

"My, you're a handsome boy," Roslin slurred as she stumbled out of Adama's reach and into the seat.

After a brief pause Adama continued.

"Please get us back to _Colonial One_ with as little…attention as possible," Adama finished.

Roslin thought it was so sweet that he was looking after her with so much care.

"You do love me," she said to Adama and smiled widely at Hotdog whose attention she gained once again.

"She doesn't know what she's saying," Adama simply said which seemed to Roslin a confirmation of what she had said.

She giggled and tried to lean forward.

"Yes I do, Admiral Adama," she replied her tone presidential. "For the first time in ages I'm saying exactly what I mean."

Her intense stare was interrupted by a small hiccup which she couldn't help but react to with a chuckle. Her momentary presidential façade crumbled but she didn't care. Right now Laura felt like Laura. Years had passed since she remembered being so carefree. For a brief moment on New Caprica Laura had come out but once Adama rescued them the President forgot all about her first name.

"Let's go," she heard the Admiral order in an un-amused tone.

Laura rested her head back on the seat of the raptor and just relaxed. The ambrosia coursed through her veins and it felt good. She was light headed enough to slouch in the seat and close her eyes. Her blissful sleep was interrupted all too soon by a large cumbersome hand shaking her shoulder. Dreamily she opened her eyes and looked up at Adama.

"It's too early Richard," she said and suddenly realized where she was.

Her embarrassment sobered her a little and she snapped up in her chair.

"Come on, Tory is waiting for you," Adama rumbled.

He was not gentle as he helped her out of the raptor. She found it difficult to find her footing and slipped. Adama caught her and she laughed gaily.

"What did you do to her?" Laura heard Tory demand of the Admiral once they were on the deck of _Colonial One_.

"She did it to herself," Adama grunted.

Laura let her hands fall away from his arm and rested them on her hips.

"You liar," she accused, "If you hadn't been giving little Miss Sunshine Starlet goo-goo eyes I wouldn't be in this condition."

Laura felt her foot slip out of her high heeled shoe and she lost of little of the height she was using for intimidation. She put a hand on Adama's arm for balance and reached down to pull of her other shoe.

"This is bad. We have to get out of here before someone sees her like this," Tory said to the Admiral.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Laura told her assistant firmly.

"I beg your pardon Madame President but not all of you is here," the girl retorted with an exasperated smirk.

"Hotdog, myself and Bianca Marks—" Adama began but Laura cut him off.

"Ha!" She mocked.

Adama glared at her, a look she returned with pleasure.

"We're the only three who saw her like this. Hide her somewhere until morning and we may avoid disaster," Adama suggested to Tory, who stood with arms now folded.

The girl nodded and took Laura by the arm. She stopped and Laura heard Adama mutter something in her ear. It sounded like, "Go easy on her in the morning. She's going to have a heavy conscience."

The kind words made Laura smile. Bill was such a good man. He was her man, even if he did flirt with some else in front of her. As Tory led her clandestinely down a darkened hall toward her quarters Laura took pride in the fact her only competition for her man was an actress who in her younger day had once been called the most beautiful woman on Caprica.

After the thought settled into her mind she lost most touch with reality. She vaguely remembered Tory leaving her in her quarters. Within a few minutes she was passed out into a peaceful slumber on the bed, still wearing her dress suit. As the night wore on the soothing effects of the ambrosia wore of and subconsciously she became Roslin again.

Roslin did not sleep as peaceful as Laura had earlier in the night. She started to toss and turn twisting the smooth sheets of her modified couch bed into knots. Sweat started to form on her under the heavy blankets. Then the dreams began. Horribly frightening nightmares about the destruction of the Colonies and the reign of cylon's on New Caprica.

In the worst of them she was walking through a forest wearing a white nightgown. Mist engulfed the forest until she could only see a small distance in front of her. This dream was too familiar. Someone was casing her. She could hear screams in the distance.

Her heart pounded and she ran over the rocky ground until she heard another scream close by. The scream was a familiar woman's voice. Roslin glanced up at a planet hovering in the black starless sky. White clouds drifted above blue oceans and green continents. The planet's atmosphere faded into a dark symbol Roslin suddenly knew was very important. Inside the circular rim was a dead tree with a golden spiral in the center. The symbol turned blood red and began oozing downward dripping into the black night.

When she took her eyes away she was surrounded by Cylon centurions. Their metallic arms turned into weapons and glistened in the blood red light. From behind them she recognized some of the human Cylon models. As they closed in on her the metal centurions grew rusted and old and started to fall apart. Arms and legs started falling everywhere on the ground, clanking loudly when they hit the rocks. The cries of the dying human models rose above all other sound. One of the human models jumped out of the dark and tugged on the bottom of Roslin's nightgown, staining it with red. The model was Sharon Valerii.

Sharon rose up as the other Cylon's began fading away with death cries. Roslin felt weak. She collapsed with her legs unable to support her. She too began to fade away while Sharon stood taller and stronger. Roslin looked down to see her hands becoming rusted and her skin being eaten away by some unknown force. The pain in her chest she recognized from her cancer returned. The other cylon models where dragging her down with hands clasping to her nightgown.

Black smoke started to eat away at the sides of her vision as she watched the rocky cliff Sharon now stood upon lift higher into the sky. A black hole of disease was swallowing Roslin up with the rest of the Cylons. Roslin kept her eyes on the symbol in the sky, watching as Sharon drew closer to it as she fell further away. Without warning her vision was blocked by a Cylon Centurion coming at her with its long sharp fingers grabbing at her neck and a red eye watching her from above a fanged metal mouth.

"…ra…ame…ident…Laura," she heard a voice, faint and far away calling to her.

A voice calling from the real world. Roslin jerked herself upright feeling sweat on her skin. She blinked a few times and slowly recognized the familiar setting of her room on _Colonial One_.

The faint light from her nightstand hit her eyes with a painful sharp smack. Her arms groped from something to prove to her she was back in the real world now. A hand made contact with her arm, and her vision cleared enough for her to see Tory's alarmed expression. Only then did she remember her ambrosia consumption. It was by far the worst hangover of her life.

"Are you alright," she heard the voice again, this time faintly seeing it come from Tory's mouth.

She put a hand to her throbbing head.

"Tory?" Roslin choked out, still trying to shake the disturbing images of the dream.

"I came in early this morning and heard you screaming," Tory explained.

Roslin opened her eyes a little wider trying to take in the light from the room. Absently she ran her fingers across the scar on her hand.

"Nightmare," Roslin shrugged as if it were not a big deal.

It wasn't a big deal. A nightmare was a nightmare. Nothing more.

"It serves you right," Tory said smugly, "Do you know what a mess you were last night?"

Roslin's headache pounded harder the more awake she became. She stifled the groan of shame that threatened to come out.

"I don't think I want to remember," Roslin replied.

"Lucky for you the Admiral was discrete. If the press would have seen you Kobol only knows the kind of mess we'd be in," Tory scolded.

"Did he…" Roslin trailed off as vague images of the night before replaced the ones from nightmare.

Unfortunately, both images were scary.

"Tory, please send a gift basket to Ms. Marks with my apologies for last night," Roslin began, getting to her feet.

Tory sat on the bed and jotted notes in her black notebook.

"Also, send one to officer…uh…the one with the call sign Hotdog…either I don't know his name or it's not coming through this morning," she told Tory putting a hand on her forehead hoping to stop the pounding.

"I'll have to apologize to the Admiral myself," she mumbled. She was dreading that.

"Yes, you will. The President of the Colonies does not get drunk. People will start comparing you to Colonel Tigh. I guess it's a good thing Adama is used to it," Tory stated.

Roslin eyed the girl with amusement. Tory almost sounded like she was joking. Good thing Roslin knew her better than that.

"Can you think of anyone else I may have offended," Roslin questioned though she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

Tory closed the black note book and folded her hands on top of it.

"Only me," the assistant said.

Roslin tilted her head and waited for an indication from Tory as to what the girl meant.

"You said that assassin was the best insult you could think of," Tory continued her mouth nearly curving upward at the ends.

Roslin flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

"Why would I say that?" She asked more to herself than to Tory. Even so, Tory answered.

"Because assassin has the word ass in it twice, so it was like calling someone a double ass."

Tory was holding in a smile now Roslin was sure of it. The President took a sly step towards Tory and put her hands on her hips.

"Then you started explaining to me why Dr. Baltar is the biggest assassin of them all, along with a colorful tune about his turn as President. Something about Baltar messed up big/but I don't give a fig/because I'm back in power/like a beautiful eternal flower," Tory finished triumphantly.

"Stop, just, stop…and please tell me that's the worst of it," Roslin said with a hand outstretched as if trying to physically stop Tory's words from reaching her. She was truly in awe of her own stupidity.

Tory lowered her head, seemed to collect herself, and then looked back up.

"Well," she sighed, "We could go into what you said about the Admiral but I really don't think you want to go there."

"Not at all, if you have any mercy," Roslin remarked coolly but she grinned at Tory and earned one in return.

"Would you accept an apology?" Roslin asked.

Tory still remained grinning and then rose to her feet.

"Madame President, the look on your face right now is better than any apology you could offer," Tory said.

Roslin let a chuckle escape once she figured out Tory really was in a joking mood today. _I wonder what brought that on_, Roslin mused to herself as she paced over to the window and looked out into the blackness of space. High above the fleet in the sky was the same tree symbol from her dream burning with a white glow. The sight startled her and she jumped backwards.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Tory questioned.

"Tory," Roslin began slowly, "Look out the window and tell me what you see."

Tory moved to a window at the foot of the couches.

"The fleet, ships, stars," Tory answered. Roslin sighed.

A nightmare was only just a dream.

"Do you see something else?" Tory asked.

Roslin shook her head and walked away from the window.

"It's nothing," she mumbled and then ordered Tory out of her quarters.

A few hours later she was dressed and behind her desk, fighting her hangover as she dealt with the daily issues of the fleet. The symbol stayed with her, and she found herself glancing out the window each time hoping it would be gone. Tory happened to walk in the office when Roslin was starting out the window.

"Still there?" Tory questioned, setting some papers in front of Roslin.

The President only averted her gaze and avoided answering.

"That's it. I'm calling Dr. Cottle," Tory said, and didn't give Roslin a chance to object.

Though Roslin hated visits from the doctor if she was seeing things that weren't there she wanted to know why. She only hoped Cottle would find an explanation.


	16. Family Matters

_Thank you so much to all my reviewers. And thanks for all your patience. I hope to have this story complete by the time Season 3.5 starts which means I will be posting about a chapter a day (don't quote me on that). I really don't want breaks too long in between chapters or I'm afraid you would hurt me shivers Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. And, yes, we all know Ron is a shipper even if he doesn't admit it!_

The metal hatch of Adama's office door twisted open and Sharon and Helo marched forcefully into the room. Adama was not in the mood to be interrupted. His softer nature won out and he hadn't thrown Sharon in the brig for slapping Roslin. Seeing her roaming free and bearing witness to Roslin's healing eye last night only added to his bad mood.

In the last few days they lost a pilot, they were faced with an unknown enemy looming just ahead, Gaeta had important information about the map Sharon had given them, Tyrol would be here any minute and to top it all off he had to put up with a drunken shrewish Roslin last night missing the discovery of the Cylon stations. He had tried to show everyone that he and Roslin weren't an item which was only partially true but the end result was her jealously. He would never understand women.

"Admiral, a moment," Sharon said her eyes wide.

He grunted not looking up from the papers on his desk.

"I received another visit from Two," Sharon said, once Helo made sure the door was shut.

Solemnly Adama lifted his eyes to rest on her. She was dressed in her flight uniform and both she and her husband looked ready for battle. Adama sighed deeply realizing his wish for a quick hello and goodbye was out.

"I got this," Sharon said and tossed an unopened brown scroll on his desk.

"And another message. Hera is on a Basestar near here. I don't care what it takes, we have to go after her. We will do it with or without your help," Sharon said.

The girl stood firmly, her eyes pinned on Adama and her feet grounded. The soft light in Adama's office made her look as human as the day she first boarded his ship. Adama mused over the question. Roslin would hate him for it but he had to do what he thought was right.

"Why do you trust this unknown cylon so implicitly?" Adama questioned.

Sharon lifted her chin defiantly.

"She didn't steal my baby," the cylon retorted harshly, "And I know things about her, about the five cylons, that you don't."

When she didn't impart to him her knowledge Adama smirked. Typical. Sharon was just as stubborn as the President when it came down to it. Adama took off his glasses and tossed them on his desk.

"Alright. I'll give you two Raptors and two Vipers. I need Starbuck and Apollo but I need them for reconnaissance," Adama answered. "We'll wait for you as long as it takes to figure out these ancient stations. I don't suppose you could offer any insight?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes at him. Now she looked cylon.

"I already gave you the key," she cooed.

Adama looked at the scroll lying on his desk.

"No, that is something else," she said and turned her head to the side. "Two said that is for the President's eyes only. I don't frakking care what you do with it. The president can go—"

Sharon's arms were flailing and she was about to say more but Helo took a step forward.

"Permission to leave right away?" he asked.

Adama lifted his chin then slowly rose from the chair and eyed his two officers from head to foot. When it came right down to it he was proud of both of them. They had over come obstacles no one else in the fleet could even begin to comprehend except perhaps himself and the President. In the end they had come out fighting on the side of the humans. If someone had taken Zak or Lee from him when they were babies he wasn't sure he would still have faith in humanity.

"Granted," he answered.

The single word felt sealing his own death warrent. He could almost feel his head in the guillotine, with Roslin hovering above him in a black executioners mask.

Sharon, on the other hand, cracked a warm smile, something he rarely saw in her anymore. Helo put his arms around his wife's shoulder and then stepped to her side. They both saluted with the most respect he had seen in two officers serving under him. He returned the salute and wished them luck wondering if it was the last time he would see either of them; wondering if he had just doomed the fleet to their same fate.

Once they had gone he looked down at the scroll on the desk. With a few fingers he brushed over the top of it. By the feel of the paper he could tell the artifact was old. _President's eyes alone my ass_, he thought to himself as he unwrapped the ribbon holding the scroll together. Inside was a page full of scripture. Scripture which appeared to be written by the Prophet Pythia about the dying leader and the Prophesy of Earth.

A knock came at his door just as he finished reading the scroll. He quickly opened a drawer of his desk and tucked the scroll inside.

Tyrol and his family stepped inside the room. Adama was surprised to see they actually looked more nervous than he felt. By the time the day was done Roslin would have far too many things to be angry with him over. He was sure at least one of them would set off her temper in the worst way. Now, with the cylon stations in space and a meeting with Gaeta in an hour he needed her input and advice. If he was a religious person he would have prayed that her temper wouldn't flare until after the meeting.

"Chief, Cally," Adama greeted.

He was sure the feeling making him sick to his stomach was a sign of the disaster about to occur.

"Admiral, thank you for…" Tyrol began but he seemed preoccupied.

Adama nodded subtly and gestured for his guests to sit down. They followed his outstretched hand to the couch and sat, although Adama observed they sat more on pins and needles than on the soft leather of his furniture.

When Adama ordered Tyrol to his office yesterday he planned on reprimanding the deck chief for leaving his post during his scheduled shift. What came out of it was a plea to help Tyrol smooth things over with his…mother.

Adama shook his head. Roslin was his mother. Even after the initial shock the words were still hard to swallow. The Admiral really had no choice but to help his crewman out. He cared for both Tyrol and Roslin. If he could help make things right then of course he would.

The only part that unnerved him was the fact Tyrol insisted on keeping the presence of his family a secret until Roslin arrived. He asked her to his quarters early making her believe the meeting with Gaeta was an hour earlier than scheduled. She had no idea Tyrol was there. Adama tried to explain to Tyrol and Cally that surprising Roslin wasn't the wisest course of action but they insisted otherwise. With a shrug of his shoulders Adama acquiesced and now here they were.

Tyrol's leg twitched quickly and Cally slapped it gently with one hand as she held Nicholas in the other. The hatch began to turn and Adama saw the panic really set in on the faces of the young couple. Adama made himself useful by walking over to the hatch. Besides, watching their lips quiver in growing nervousness was making him uneasy.

Adama's eyes met with Roslin's bright ones. Since 'the inebriation,' as he now thought of it, he hadn't seen her. She was more beautiful than he remembered though she did look a bit hung-over. _Serves her right_, he thought with smugness.

As she stepped over the bulkhead he offered a hand which she took and averted her eyes down. Adama thought he saw her blush which nearly made him laugh out loud. So she did feel remorse for her excess drinking…

"Madame President," he began, "I have some guests who wanted to see you."

With a smile on her still reddish face she looked over Adama's shoulder to see the three other people in the room. The smile faded into a grimace of panic and confusion. In the next instant the Presidential façade was back on her terror went into hiding.

"Madame President," Tyrol said in a formal voice much to Adama's annoyance.

If these two where ever going to get anywhere they were going to need a good shove. Adama didn't catch the irony of that thought.

Cally must have been thinking the same thing for Adama saw her gather all courage and stand up next to her husband. With a deep breath the girl pushed past a dumbfounded Tyrol and marched up to Roslin.

"We thought you'd want to meet your grandson," Cally said turning her body so Roslin could see the baby in her arms.

Cally bent her head a little as she tried to look into Roslin's eyes to read her reaction. Adama didn't need to see Roslin to know exactly what she was feeling. He gently placed his hand on her back, giving her his support by the physical action and encouraging her to respond.

"I…" was all the normally articulate doesn't-hesitate-to-throw-cylons-out-the-airlock President could manage.

Adama smirked and applied a little more pressure to her back.

"Would you like to hold him?" Cally asked, the fear now seeping into her tone.

"Oh," Roslin said breathlessly, "no."

She waved her hands back and forth in front of her in denial. Cally sent a worried look to Adama. He inhaled and shook his head letting Cally know with his eyes that Roslin was just as afraid. Cally then began to push Nicholas into Roslin's arms and the President had no choice but to accept the small bundle.

Adama watched the glow of pride brighten Roslin's features and bring carefully concealed water to her eyes. The scene choked him up a bit as well.

"Nicky this is your grandma," Cally said, putting a hand on Roslin's arm.

Roslin delicately cleared her throat before she spoke. She didn't fool Adama though. He knew she was emotional right now, even if she was still trying to be Presidential.

"You're right Cally, he is a handsome baby," she finally managed to say.

"Takes after his father," Cally replied, beaming in response to Roslin's compliment.

Roslin lifted her eyes to Tyrol who wasn't looking at the scene before him. Adama couldn't deduce whether the scene was too emotionally jarring or if he was angry. Roslin must have seen it too for she quickly handed Nicholas back to Cally and approached Tyrol with heavy steps.

"When I was sixteen I had a child. My parents forced me to give him up," Roslin began her voice surprisingly steady.

Adama had the urge to follow her, to keep his hand on her back and let her know he was there for her.

"It wasn't a decision I liked but…what's done is done…" Roslin continued.

Tyrol continued to stare away from her. Adama noticed Cally out of the corner of his eye. She seemed like she was bracing herself for the worst.

"You don't know how…relieved I am, that you found such a…that your parents loved you," Roslin finally said with some difficulty.

Tyrol finally looked at her with eyes glistening. Adama saw Roslin take a small step back at the plain emotion on his face.

"Wow," he whispered.

There was calmness in his voice that did not match the expression on his face.

"The president is my mother, who had me by mistake," Tyrol said.

"It wasn't a mistake. I knew exactly what I was doing," Roslin replied.

She stood tall and her auburn hair picked up the light from Adama's office making her glow with even more power than she normally possessed. Adama smiled to himself. He loved it when she made to excuses and spoke her mind.

"My father?" Tyrol barely managed to cough out the words.

Adama paid a little more attention to this subject. A smile appeared on Roslin's face. A gentle, peaceful musing smile. Adama was damned if he knew what that meant.

"He was a boy when I…knew him. Very nice and very smart," Roslin merely said.

Adama watched as Tyrol waited with baited breath for more of an explanation. Of course, Adama had known Roslin long enough to know they weren't going to get one.

"What happened to him?" Tyrol encouraged her to give away more information.

"I don't know," Roslin began the smile fading only a little, "He wasn't a part of my life after you were born."

Tyrol's eyes where wide and Adama watched his legs sag as if they were about to give out. The chief plopped himself down on the couch and with his elbows on his knees he put his hands on his head. Clearly he was still having some trouble dealing with everything that had been confessed.

Tyrol inhaled loudly and remained in the same position for a few minutes. Then he folded his arms across his chest as he looked up at Roslin.

"I have so many more questions for you. Now what?" He asked.

"I don't know," Roslin said.

Silence fell over the mother and son.

"I do," Cally said, her voice perky.

Adama turned to face her as did Roslin and Tyrol.

"You two are going to get to know each other. A weekly lunch date. And you are going to be seeing a lot more of your grandson, because he is one of the only kids in the fleet who actually has a grandparent living. I will not deprive him of that. Yes, there will be awkward silences and averted gazes but this happened for a reason and we are not going to let this opportunity pass us by," Cally explained to all of them.

After she finished speaking her mouth twitched and she took a step back. From the way her eyebrows lifted up underneath her bangs she seemed as surprised by her own words as Adama.

"I see," Roslin said with a smile.

Adama was filled with gentle warmth at seeing her genuine smile.

"Is there anything else Mrs. Tyrol?" Tyrol asked with a smirk.

Cally smiled but again her mouth seemed to get the better of her. With an intense gaze at Adama she spoke boldly and seriously.

"Yes, there is something. Are you and the President dating? We are family so I think we have a right to know," Cally said this time not showing any fear that she had spoken inappropriately.

Adama was about to answer but Roslin beat him to it.

"As I have told the press over and over again, the Admiral and I are just friends and co-workers," she said. Cally lifted Nicholas up over her shoulder.

"I said we are family. Don't feed me the line of bull you give to the press, I want a real answer," she said her tone light and teasing.

Adama stepped forward, put his arm around Roslin's waist and looked Cally directly in the eye.

"We would like to be more but we can't," he told her honestly.

He was sick of lying. If he couldn't trust two of his most loyal crew members and the son of Roslin then who could he trust? Judging by Roslin expression, she looked more as if she was going to be sick, rather than being sick of lying too.

"See Galen, I told you," Cally said causally.

Roslin pulled away from Adama's grasp uncomfortably. He felt her whole body stiffen before his hand lost contact with her.

"I thought we were meeting with Gaeta," she said abruptly.

"He'll be here later," Adama said, trying to hide his amusement at her denial of the subject and confession.

Maybe she was still embarrassed by her behavior last night with good reason.

Tyrol stood up from the couch and walked over to Roslin. He stared down at her and Adama saw his lips curve into a smile.

"Well, mom, I guess we should set up a weekly lunch date or my wife will have my head," he joked.

Roslin nodded and folded her arms. Nicholas began crying softly.

"Do Thursdays work for you?" She asked.

Tyrol sighed and walked over to his wife when Nicholas' cries grew in volume.

"Yup, sounds good," he said as he placed a hand on Nick's head. "I think we should go before Nick really starts in."

Cally bobbed her head in agreement and the two turned to leave.

"Chief," Roslin called before they reached the door.

She drew in a breath and stepped close to Tyrol.

"Thank you," she began slowly and with uncertainty lining her voice, "for giving me a second chance."

Adama wasn't sure what Tyrol's reaction to the words would be. He stood still for quite a long time and Adama watched as Roslin became more and more unsure of herself. Finally Tyrol reached down and drew Roslin into a hug. Her arms awkwardly responded and he heard Tyrol say 'your welcome' in a very tender voice.

When mother and son separated Adama could see faint hints of water in each one's eyes. The hatch closed and neither Roslin nor Adama moved. He observed her watching the now closed door until she turned to face him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Adama bowed his head and took a seat on the sofa. Roslin followed his lead and sat in the chair adjacent to the couch.

"You want to tell me about last night," Adama asked.

Her behavior had thrown him for a loop not to mention the total lack of propriety in it. He demanded an explanation. His thoughts had been on her and 'the inebriation' all day. Roslin folded her arms in her lap, kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I don't suppose you are willing to forget last night?" she asked with a cool smile.

Adama returned the smile but he wasn't about to let her get off easy.

"Not likely," he replied.

Roslin's smile dropped away and she looked toward the wall.

"You hopped into the boxing ring to relieve your frustrations. My outlet proved to be just as damaging," she stated.

Her eyes fixed on him judging his expressions carefully.

"Indeed," he said with eyebrows raised.

Roslin lowered her head and looked at him from under her eyebrows.

"Sooner or later you were bound to find out I'm the jealous type," she said curtly with smirk.

Adama chuckled.

"Why exactly were you flirting with Bianca Marks?" Roslin asked sharply cutting off Adama's laughter.

"That was your idea," he informed her and was actually surprised that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"No, my idea was to show the press _we_ weren't an item," Roslin explained as if he were one of her students.

"And that is exactly what I did. People will think of Bianca and I as a couple before you and I. It's safer for us and the fleet this way," he stated.

His true intentions had been to protect her from idle gossip. His goal had always been to protect her whether from the vicious lies of the press or the cylons. He wasn't sure why he had to explain that to her. Did she really think he was interested in anyone else?

"You could have at least warned me," Roslin replied.

Adama averted his gaze and braced himself for her reaction to his next words.

"It wasn't something I planned in advance. The idea just came to me as I was standing there talking to her," he defended.

"I see," Roslin said her lips tightening, "but that idea didn't come from your brain."

Obviously she did think he was interested in Bianca Marks. The sheer ridiculousness of her 'woman' thinking caused Adama's temper to flair. As he thought about it his anger dissipated and he forced himself not to laugh or she might think he was insulting her.

"Are you still drunk," Adama ask his tone teasing.

Roslin regarded him with a mouth slightly parted in disbelief. Whether she was about to laugh or very insulted Adama couldn't tell. She seemed to compose herself before she spoke again, letting his comment slide.

"My behavior wasn't entirely my fault," Roslin began, her voice taking on a professional edge. "I went to see Dr. Cottle this morning. He found traces of Chamalla in my blood, which means someone spiked my drinks last night."

"Chamalla? Why?" Adama didn't like the idea someone could get to Roslin so easily under his watch. Had it been poison instead of Chamalla…

"I was hoping you might have an idea," she replied. Adama leaned forward and shook his head.

"Poison might make sense if it were an assassin," Adama started but stopped when Roslin laughed abruptly.

He eyed her curiously but she gestured for him to continue with a guilty look on her face.

"Chamalla is an herbal drug, not really dangerous except in extreme or long term doses. I'll have the bar and anyone there that night investigated. I'm short on men right now with the recon mission so there are no guarantees," he explained.

Roslin uncrossed her ankles and leaned forward in the chair rubbing her temples with her fingers. Adama did everything in his power not to let a chuckle slip out but seeing Roslin with a hangover was too shocking and hilarious.

"It's not funny," she mumbled with her eyes closed. "Tell me about the recon mission."

Adama maintained the smile he wore but his tone turned serious.

"The objective is to retrieve as much information about these space stations as possible without getting to close. They appear to be inactive on dradis but we lost a Viper that got too close. Their weapons are impressive for machinery so old," Adama told her.

"You're briefing said they shot down a cylon raider as well," Roslin interjected lifting her eyes to meet his.

She looked like crap which struck Adama as hilarious too.

"Sharon told me she gave me the key to understanding it," Adama replied, his eyes not leaving Roslin.

He wanted to closely study her reaction to Sharon's words.

"The map?" Roslin questioned.

Before Adama could answer Gaeta knocked and then stepped through the hatch into the office. Roslin quickly slipped her feet back into her shoes and her posture became more ridged as if she had something to hide.

"Just in time," Adama said to Gaeta as he greeted the President with a polite nod.

"Admiral, Madame President, I think you need to see this," he said and walked to Adama's desk laying papers across it. He pulled out the map.

"This is an early transmission of the cylon stations. They span about six sectors of space," Gaeta said and stopped when Roslin gasped.

"That far? Going around them would take years," she said pulling her glasses out of her pocket and putting them on in order to study the layout in more detail.

"This is the map you got from…wherever," Gaeta continued and placed the map underneath the transparent sheet the transmission was printed on.

The dots on the map lined up perfectly with a few of the cylon stations making a trail directly through them to the other side.

"Do you think this is a way through?" Adama questioned Gaeta.

The young officer smirked and shook his head.

"Well, that's what it looks like," he said.

Roslin's glasses reflected the light from the lamp on Adama's desk.

"I guess you were wrong. It is just a map," she told Adama.

He looked up at her surprised to find she seemed will to put stock in a map they received from an unknown cylon ally.

"What?" Gaeta looked up at Roslin.

"The Admiral thought it was more than a map," Roslin explained.

"It is."

Adama exchanged a glance with Roslin. Gaeta picked up the map and twisted the head of the lamp. He placed the map in front of the light and the dots faded into the background of a larger picture. Adama frowned when he saw it.

There was a shadowy figure standing on a cliff looking up at the sky where a planet hung. Below the cliff were more shadowy figures, these ones distorted and clawing at a figure in the center who was reaching for the cliff. The dots made another trail, this one broke off from the main cluster and ended where the planet hung in the sky.

Adama was about to ask Gaeta's opinion of this picture but he felt Roslin suddenly leave his side. She stumbled over to his couch and leaned on it for support. Her shoulders were tense underneath the grey suit jacket she wore.

"Laura?" he asked softly his voice concerned.

"It is more than a map," she replied in the same soft voice.

He watched her face consumed with deep thought until she finally seemed to break out of it.

"Is there a planet Mr. Gaeta?" she asked.

Gaeta shook his head still holding the map up to the light.

"I don't know. Nothing is showing on dradis. If there is something there we can't pick it up," he explained.

Roslin smiled faintly and sent Adama a look that said they needed to speak alone.

"Thank you Mr. Gaeta," Adama said.

Gaeta hesitated before leaving and Adama knew he wanted to stay to hear what was about to be said. When he was finally out the door Roslin walked over to the desk and picked up the map he left.

"What aren't you telling me," Adama asked.

Roslin sighed and held the map up to the light again.

"I've seen this image before. Last night in my nightmares. This figure was Sharon in my dream," Roslin said gesturing to the shadow on the cliff.

"This was me," she moved her figure down to the center shadow below, "and these were human cylon models."

"Could you have seen this image before?" Adama asked, looking for the logical explanation.

"No," Roslin whispered as if she was fighting the implications as well.

She lowered her hands and placed the map back on the table. Silence fell over Adama's office as he formulated a plan.

"Starbuck is the best pilot we have. I will send her along the map route. If it is a hoax she has the best chance of outrunning the stations. If this really is a path through then we take the fleet in," Adama said.

Roslin nodded slowly. She took of her glasses and stood face to face with Adama.

"And the planet?" she questioned.

He could tell this would be a point of disagreement between them. To her he knew this planet would be another key in finding the way to Earth just like Kobol. Her drug induced visions were not enough to convince him but he refused to let this end in another military coup.

"We'll deal with that when we get there," he replied.

She narrowed her eyes at him but seemed to bide her time for the moment. Of that he was relieved. The discussed a few more minor issues regarding the fleet and Adama again felt guilty. He let her go without telling her about Sharon and Helo's mission or showing her the scroll Two had sent. Adama just needed a little more time to figure it all out. Right now, time was what they had plenty of.


	17. The Pedestal

_Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

"Be careful Starbuck," Apollo said through the helmet com.

He was just like an overprotective big brother. Of course, Apollo was hotter than any imaginary big brother.

"Yes, mother," she mocked from inside her Viper.

She followed the tiny black dots on the coordinates sent from _Galactica_ to her Viper. Her gloves crinkled as they tightened around the controls of the ship. She silently prayed that the old man knew what he was doing. The first black dot matched up to the space station right in front of the formation of Vipers. Kara took some comfort in knowing if anything did go wrong Apollo was right behind her with his sights set on the station.

"Okay, I can do this," she said to herself with a short exhale. "_Galactica_ Actual this is Starbuck. Preparing to enter at specified coordinates."

The Viper rocked slightly to the left as Starbuck inched the controls forward. The silver space stations grew larger inside the window of the Viper. She crossed the line into the cylon territory. Her fingers again tightened on the controls. Her heart began to pound in her ears. There was nothing like the thrill of being in a Viper on the verge of having to run for you life.

Starbuck turned her head to study the large motionless tower in space as her Viper drifted past it without incident. Though the station was technologically advanced somehow it didn't quite seem cylon. Rust had gathered on the outer most spires and even from inside her Viper Starbuck could hear the creaking of large metal straining to hold together.

"So far so good," Starbuck reported, imagining Adama's facing glowing in green light as he looked up at the dradis in the CIC and listened to her.

"Moving to second coordinate," she said.

With a deep inhale she let her shoulders relax a little. From the smoothness of the mission so far it seemed the coordinates Adama had given to her signaled which of the stations were friendly and which weren't.

"Kara, get the frak outta there now!" Apollo yelled in her ear.

She stopped her Viper dead in space in order to turn around. Once she stopped she saw the lights from the second Station power on and she could hear the sound of cannons charging. She hit the acceleration and moved out of range but once she was moving again the lights turned off.

Kara tilted her head to the side and clenched her teeth.

"Guess you don't like a moving target," she said to herself.

When she passed the first station on her way out she saw the formation of Vipers scattering in every direction. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the fleet in the direction Apollo and the other Vipers were scattering.

"Not good," she said and hit the acceleration once again, racing with the others back toward the fleet.

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Roslin entered her office on _Colonial One_ to find Tory laughing. The sound of Tory's laughter was as foreign to Roslin as the sight before her. Samuel T. Anders, Kara Thrace's husband, was smiling and had obviously said something that made Roslin's young assistant laugh. Upon the rescue from New Caprica Roslin had assigned Tory to work with Anders in finding possible ways to rally the civilian fleet to arms if such action was ever necessary again.

The two had devised a required course for all civilians that included basic survival training as well as instruction on using a weapon. Roslin hadn't been sold on the idea but persuasion from Adama and Anders made her go along with it. Apparently, Tory and Anders had become good friends during the course of the assignment through Roslin believed they had hated each other to begin with. But, as she well knew, hate is not the opposite of love…

"Good morning Madame President," Tory said, hopping from her leaning position on Roslin's desk and standing rigidly.

"Hello, Tory. Mr. Anders what brings you here," Roslin asked looking up at the handsome young man.

"Tory and I just finished the last of the…" Anders began but trailed off as he looked out the window.

The tall athlete brushed passed Tory and ducked down to look out the window. Roslin frowned.

"This is not good," he said.

Roslin and Tory exchanged glances. Tory joined Anders and the window and Roslin was not far behind. She peered out to see a white flash as seven or eight Cylon Basestars appeared out of the blackness of space.

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"Admiral we have multiple contacts on dradis," Dee said as Adama looked up at the screen.

One thing Adama always prided himself on was keeping in cool in a bad situation. This qualified as a bad situation.

"Call the recon Vipers back to the fleet," Adama ordered.

He saw Tigh give him a look from the corner of his eye.

"Sir, I'm registering six, no, seven Basestars jumping in behind a raptor and a Viper," Dee barked out.

Her voice carried over the other noise in the CIC. Adama clenched his teeth. He knew it was Sharon and Helo returning from their rescue mission. Judging by the kind of firepower they had on their trail they must have freed their child.

"We can't go up against seven Basestars," Tigh pointed out to Adama as if he hadn't realized the obvious.

Adama remained motionless and thought. He thought hard. There was no way he would let humanity be destroyed because of his decision to let Sharon and Helo go after their baby.

"Call the Vipers back and prepare for jump," Adama ordered.

Back-up jump coordinates always came in handy in such situations.

"Admiral," Gaeta began, with all kinds of papers in his hands, "Interference from the stations is blocking our FTL drive."

"Work through it," Adama ordered, leaning over the command station.

"I can't. I can't even get a clear enough signal to enter the coordinates, let alone jump," Gaeta stated with hidden panic in his voice.

"Basestars launching raiders," Dee's voice again rang out.

"The fleet won't last long, even with us covering them," Tigh said in a low voice to Adama.

For a brief instant all Adama could think about was how pissed Roslin was going to be with him if they lived through this. His hand clenched into a fist.

"Starbuck," Adama said into the air and waited.

"Yes Admiral," her voice came over the com system.

"How close are you to _Galactica_," he questioned. Adama noticed Tigh lift an eyebrow.

"Still closer to the space stations sir," Starbuck replied in a tone laced with frustration.

"Turn around. Start transmitting the coordinates to the fleet and lead them through," Adama ordered, "Let's see if this really is cylon technology."

"This is crazy," Tigh told Adama.

"You said yourself we won't last against seven Basestars," Adama replied.

The Admiral knew the move was rash and dangerous but he had no other choice. Death was certain if they went up against the Basestars but not a confirmed fact if they entered the space occupied by the stations.

"Dee, tell our Vipers to hold off the raiders for as long as they can. Bring _Galactica_ around and ready cannons," Adama commanded.

"Aye, sir," Dee answered.

_Common old girl_, Adama thought, _hold together for just one more fight._ Adama often found himself thinking those words to his ship. By some stroke of luck she had listened to him in the past. He hoped luck was still on their side.

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"I don't believe it," Starbuck heard Apollo say.

All she could see in front of her was more and more space filled with the enormous space stations. How did she get stuck leading the civilians through when there was a battle going on? The urge to see what was happening was too over powering. Starbuck flipped her Viper around, still traveling forward but facing backward so she could see behind them.

_Galactica_ had taken a severe pounding and was just passing the third station with three Basestars in close pursuit. The Basestars were coming at the old battle cruiser from three different directions. Once they crossed over the threshold of the space stations Starbuck watched as the lights flickered on. By the time _Galactica_ was passing the fifth station marked on the map the weapons of the first stations began to fire.

Starbuck was nearly blinded by the huge explosions reflecting in the glass of her helmet. Three of the Basestars were completely destroyed in fiery eruptions so large that one of the stations was destroyed as well. Debris flew everywhere, even as far out as Starbuck was now. Small pieces of Basestar sprinkled the civilian ships like a Caprican rainstorm.

Kara couldn't remember seeing a sight so lovely. She smiled and her wails of joy joined in with the other pilots celebrating. The other Basestars stopped at the edge of the stations, not daring to follow. For the moment the fleet was safe. Kara's smile faded when she looked up at the station looming above her. Perhaps safe wasn't the right word. They were out of immediate danger as long as the ships kept moving along the specified trial.

"Just like following bread crumbs," Starbuck reasoned to herself and turned her Viper back around.

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A week and a half after the narrow escape from the cylon Basestars Adama sat behind his desk rubbing his weary eyes and leaning over a damage report. The fleet had been extraordinarily lucky so far. For the time being it seemed the cylons had given up the chase, though Adama doubted they had given up completely. Each day he saw Sharon and Helo's happiness over the return of their child his stomach turned with an eerie feeling. The cylons would be coming, it was as sure as death and Colonial taxes.

When he heard a faint knock on his office hatch the last person he expected stepped through after granting permission to enter. Had the knock been forceful and urgent Adama would have expected Roslin to appear. For three days she hadn't come and from the brief, nearly ice capped, conversations he had with her over the wireless he knew a battle was about to be waged inside the fleet.

Adama sighed loudly as he thought about the fight awaiting himself and his…well, whatever she was…

"I hope I'm not intruding," Bianca Marks said as she timidly approached his desk.

Adama took his eyes from the damage report grateful they met with Bianca's warm smile instead of Roslin's scowl. He gestured toward the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"No. Thank you, I'll stand," Marks said giving him a distrustful look.

Women doubting Adama's intentions was really beginning to get on his nerves. He watched her expectantly wondering why she was here and cursing himself for musing to himself that Laura was still prettier. Many would probably disagree with him but his tastes couldn't be helped. He didn't want them to be helped either.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you."

Marks did not ask but rather stated the remark with the hint of a smirk playing on her perfect lips. Adama wasn't sure he liked the presumption. After Roslin's behavior a week ago he didn't have any way to defend their relationship to the not inebriated woman who had observed it all.

"What brings you here?" he asked, changing the subject and hoping it wasn't too obvious.

Judging by the knowing glint in Marks' dark eyes he could tell he wasn't fooling anyone. She gave him another warm smile. Every time she used that smile he got the feeling it was a precious gift she was holding in her hands offering it to him with selfless charity. Actresses.

"Two reasons, actually," Marks told him and walked over to the wall to examine a painting of the Caprican skyline.

Adama's eyes followed her. He folded his hands on top of his desk and decided he didn't altogether trust the actress. She was a little mischievous, which could mean big trouble for himself and Roslin. If she spoke to the press about the inebriation….

"She sent me a gift basket with a rather lengthy apology," Marks began.

Adama sat up taller, unsure where the woman was about to take the conversation.

"It was unnecessary. We all have our moments, even the President," Marks mused.

Her eyes perked up as if she was holding in a laugh. Adama was relieved that blackmail wasn't on Bianca's agenda for the day. His shoulders fell back and he relaxed a little.

"What I would like," she continued, "Is to meet her again, to talk to her about a few things. You see, I come from a long line of oracles. My mother persuaded me into a career on the stage rather than taking up the family profession. Oracles are still as hated and feared now as they were a hundred years ago. Mother always said, better to be burned by critics than burned at the sake."

Adama pondered the words. He really didn't want Roslin buying another line of bull from another crazy religious fanatic. Religion turned Roslin into a raving lunatic without encouragement from a seemingly sane being.

"You think Laura is the leader in Pythia's Prophesy," Adama said low in his throat.

Taking about religious crap had never been his favorite past time.

Bianca's smile faded for the first time since he had met her. In fact, Adama only now noticed Marks' entire presence seemed tainted with an indefinable sadness. She brushed a tightly curled strand of hair away from her eye.

"I want to know if she is going to the planet," Marks said.

Adama did a double take, sure he missed what she had just said. He unfolded his hands and readied himself to spring from the chair at any second.

"How did you know about that?" He drilled as if she were one of his officers.

Marks calmly answered, her eyes glittering with secrets.

"Because I've seen it too."

Adama had trouble believing that. Maybe Bianca had found out about Roslin's dreams from Dr. Cottle or Tory. While he was trying to swallow what he still believed to be a hoax Marks stepped closer to his desk. His muscles were so tightly wound now that her movement made him jump.

"This planet holds the key to finding Earth," Marks explained.

"I've heard that before," Adama sarcastically mocked, avoiding eye contact.

"All of this has happened before—"

"Spare me," he ordered.

He didn't request, he didn't ask as a gentleman. He ordered. Like an Admiral. Marks did seem surprised at that. She tilted her head to the side and studied him with her dark enticing eyes.

"You don't believe Laura Roslin is the foretold leader?" Marks questioned.

"I don't believe in the ravings of bloodthirsty imaginary gods."

Adama knew few truths in his life but this was one of them. There were no gods. There was no destiny. Laura Roslin was a woman _not_ a prophet. Human beings made choices of their own free will and paid the consequences. If you were a decent person and worked hard then with luck you might find a little happiness, do a little good for the world, or make a little mark in history. This was his religion, his truth and judging by the look on Marks face she didn't like hearing it.

"None of that matters if you love her," she said.

The actress could be just as smooth and unpredictable as the woman she claimed was the leader. Adama smirked and thought of the writing on the scroll in his desk. The scroll Roslin still hadn't seen. The scroll he would make sure she never saw for good or ill.

He fingered the handle of the desk drawer and watched Bianca Marks stare at him with a wary smile. There was certainly more to her than an actress with a lust for a Caprican Theater Statuette.

"But enough of that," she said flippantly, dismissing the heavy weight that descended on his office with a flick of her white hand, "I also came to invite you to a little celebration music show I'm doing for your crew, in about oh…" she glanced at the tiny silver watch on her wrist, "ten minutes."

Adama's mouth dropped.

"I see Colonel Tight didn't mention it. I knew it. Many of your crew wrote me with requests. I thought, hell, I can still sing, might as well share the wealth. When I asked permission to use the mess hall the Colonel granted it but obviously didn't tell you," Marks explained.

Adama smiled. He had finally figured Marks out. She was a masterful actress, worthy of a Statuette after all.

"No, he didn't tell me," Adama said. He stood up with a smile still on his lips and walked around the desk.

"May I escort you," he asked with an offered elbow.

"You're not angry?" she asked innocently with large lovely eyes.

She was brilliant. All the right touches, all the right words.

"Not at all. Anything to boost morale. Shall we?" Adama asked.

Marks took his arm and they left the room.

When they reached the mess hall Marks left Adama side, drawing some lifted eyebrows, one from Kara and one from Lee in particular. The rest of Adama's crew cheered her to the front of the room where Tyrol was still fiddling with a lone microphone.

Adama spotted Tigh in a dark corner near the back holding a glass. His long time friend gave him a sidelong glance with a toothy grin.

"You didn't approve this without telling me, did you?" Tigh asked.

Yes, Bianca Marks was a good little actress and obviously used to getting her own way no matter how she had to do it.

"She's an actress," Adama remarked as he watched the petite woman draw laughs from her audience.

"Well," Tigh shrugged after taking a drink, "If we're going to be had might as well be by a beautiful woman."

Adama nodded and turned his attention back to the show. The delight on the faces of his crew forced Adama to forgive Marks' deceit. Tigh chuckled. No doubt the XO found the entire situation funny.

One thing Adama would say for manipulative singer, she was at home on the stage. Her voice was distinct and drew passing crew members into the mess hall like water calls to a beached guppy.

On stage in front of people is where Bianca Marks seemed most comfortable. Adama wished Roslin hadn't been so drunk during their tête-à-tête with the actress or the President might have noticed how uneasy Marks had been in their company. Large groups of people seemed to frighten Marks less than a few individuals, though she had a way of putting people at ease even if she herself wasn't. When on stage that sadness about Marks seemed to disappear in the waves of love and applause that washed over her.

After a few songs Adama excused himself from the concert and was about to head back to his office when he felt a hand on his arm right out side the mess hall.

He turned and came face to face with a tight jawed Apollo. They stood there like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything. Adama could tell by his son's eyes his actions had something to do with Roslin. Perhaps Lee had given in to the rumors about Marks and himself. With a smooth movement Adama pulled his arm away from his sons grasp. He walked away, but felt satisfied in knowing his son had put Roslin back on her pedestal.


	18. The Way

_Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Even though the A shaped corridors of _Galactica _were busy with chatter, traffic and cheers stilling lingering over the recent escape from the cylons, anyone passing through could hear the determined sharp clicking of President Laura Roslin's high heels. She was headed directly from the hanger deck to the CIC. Those who passed her in the hallway scattered out of her way, a panicked open mouth the closest thing to talking they could manage. Roslin didn't hide her anger well, for everyone on _Galactica_ knew she was way beyond furious with the Admiral.

The steady click of her shoes and the swish of her hair across her back increased the powerful rage she felt burning inside. Once Sharon and Helo returned to _Galactica_ it didn't take Roslin long to figure out what had happened, especially when she heard their ecstatic excitement over the wireless. To think that Adama condoned the action was beyond her belief. She walked faster down the hallway her entourage following behind her.

Apollo stood as solid as a blockade just in front of the steps to the CIC. Roslin considered pushing him out of the way but with other officers watching they might think she wasn't open to hearing opinions of the military. Frankly, right now she wasn't.

"Madame President," Lee said once Roslin stopped.

She got up into his personal space and sent him a look of steely disapproval.

"If you don't mind, Commander, I have somewhere to be," she said sharply.

Apollo looked around her at the two bodyguards standing on each side almost daring them to push him aside.

"May I have a word in private?" he asked, giving her a look that said he wouldn't take no for an answer.

The whole thing was completely absurd. Roslin averted her gaze to the wall, pursed her lips together to keep from losing her temper and then forced a smile.

"Very well," she said in an unfriendly tone.

Apollo turned and she followed him up the stairs and into a deserted storage room, her high heels clicking all the way up the stairs. She nodded to the guards and they waited outside. Apollo closed the door softly and instead of speaking paced back and forth rubbing his hands together. His actions were doing nothing to abate Roslin's growing anger. He was only adding impatience to her terrible mood.

"If you have something to say…" she started for him.

He stopped pacing and turned to look up at her.

"He was only doing what he thought was right. He didn't mean to put the fleet in danger. You've done the same thing," Lee explained defending his father's actions with a stern jaw.

Roslin rolled her eyes and without answering pushed passed Lee reaching for the door. He caught her by the arm in a tight, nearly painful grip.

"You are going to stay here and let me finish," Lee demanded.

"Since when does a Commander give orders to the President?" she questioned with hostility.

Lee lowered his head and let go of her arm. He looked just like a little boy when she scolded him. With a sigh Roslin decided to do as he said. Perhaps he needed to say whatever it was for his own good, not hers.

"Go on," Roslin said, trying to keep the impatience from leaking into her voice.

"Now that you're here I'm not sure how to…" Lee tailed off.

Roslin folded her arms across her chest hoping the cold action would hurry him into speaking.

"I don't know what has been said between the two of you, but it needs to be said. My father cares about you and I want you to know that if it could happen, I wouldn't object to inviting you into our family," Lee said his voice steady but his face pale.

He swallowed hard.

Roslin took a step away from him and unfolded her arms. For the moment she was speechless. This was certainly not what she had expected from Lee Adama. Basically, he had just proposed to her on behalf of his father. Strange...and very, very good. She couldn't quite manage a smile so she put her hands on her hips and regarded him with confusion.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Apollo began, obviously reading her reaction completely wrong, "But ever since I found out about…President Adar, we haven't spoken. We used to be a lot closer and it's my fault we're not. The truth is, my mother was nothing like you…I wish she had been."

Roslin watched Lee's face turn even paler, perhaps a shade of green that made him look like he was going to be sick. The impatience drifted away from her. She was still furious with his father but her heart softened towards Lee.

"You didn't upset me," she began, "I've missed you as my military advisor."

Lee's sheepish grin overtook his expression of green fear.

"Please go easy on him. He is an old man," Lee said.

Roslin returned the smile but there was no chance in hell she was going to take his advice. She moved toward the door as Lee opened it for her.

"Thank you for the invitation," she said with a smile as she walked passed him.

She didn't turn around to see his reaction but she could almost feel the smile spreading across his face. How lovely and strange would it be to have Apollo for a stepson? Two sons and a husband gained in the space of a year? Roslin smiled then shuttered. It was a dream; a tired, sad dream that would never, _never _come true.

When she reached the door of the CIC she stood in front of it simmering. Lee stopped behind her and waited for her to enter. There were times when Laura came out a little in her meetings with the Admiral and the crew but this time she left Laura outside the door. President Roslin stepped into the CIC armed and ready for a fierce battle of wills.

Gaeta, Tigh, Thrace, Tyrol, Dualla and Adama all stood over the command center in the CIC, the expression on each of their faces tired and somber. Roslin approached with Lee not far behind her. Adama brought his eyes up to meet hers but she turned away.

"Madame President," Gaeta greeted.

Roslin received interesting looks from Starbuck and Tigh but ignored them. They had business to discuss now. Starbuck took the hint and leaned over the command station, waving her hand over a large map indicating their position within the fleet of stations. The white light from the command center brightened her chin and darkened her corn husk hair.

"By our estimations we should be out of the station space in 21 days," Kara said.

For some reason the words struck Roslin like a punch in the stomach. She was momentarily winded by them. Why? Why was 21 days so unnerving to her? No one else seemed to notice her panic. She was grateful Billy wasn't here. He would have noticed.

"We will be coming upon the half way point in a few days," Gaeta began, "and the second path indicated on the map."

Roslin lifted her head quickly and glanced from Gaeta to Adama. His steely cool eyes knowingly studied her reaction.

"We have to make a decision," Tyrol said turning his head to look at Roslin. "Taking the entire fleet to the end of the second path is dangerous. The contestant travel is putting strain on the ships."

"The fleet stays on the path out," Adama finally stated, leaving no room for question or argument.

"We could take a small party on the second path, to see what's—" Kara began but Adama cut her off sharply.

"The fleet stays together."

There it was. The Adama law. No one in the CIC dared to question it, not even the Admiral's own son. Roslin's anger boiled up from the pit of her stomach.

"What if this second path leads us to Earth?" she asked boldly.

All eyes focused on her but to her everyone disappeared except the man standing across the table.

"I'm not willing to risk the human race on a 'what if,'" Adama said.

Roslin turned her head to the side, collected herself, and met his words with low tones of her own.

"Admiral, may I have a word in private?" she asked, though she knew it sounded like an order.

She wanted it to sound like an order. In her heart she knew her strange dreams meant something and that this planet was too important to pass by.

Adama nodded and walked off to a small secluded space near the back of the CIC away from the ears of those around the table. Roslin spoke to him in hushed tones, though the softness of her voice hid the loud anger racing through her.

"Bill, let me be frank. I think you are a fool for letting the cylon and her husband go after their child. You nearly destroyed us all and you betrayed my trust. But now, right now that isn't the issue. I am going to over look all of it in order to tell you this planet holds the key to finding Earth. I don't know how I know, I just know. We can present a united front to the fleet or you can force another military coup. Either way, I _am_ going."

Adama's expression was unreadable, but by the downward turn of his lips he didn't like what she had just said. He stood next to her in silence for so long she thought he was going to leave without saying anything.

"If you coerce any one of my crew into joining you, don't doubt I will force a coup. This mission is strictly volunteer. If you get yourself killed…" he warned and trailed off.

He turned toward the command center and Roslin followed him. With head held high he addressed the senior staff.

"The President has had a vision about this planet, induced by Chamalla," he began, and she unsuccessfully stifled the gasp that escaped her lips.

How dare he share that information?!

"She believes it will lead us to Earth. Anyone who wishes to join her on this dreamer's errand may do so. The rest of the fleet will remain on our current trajectory. You'll have to catch up with us," he finished, turning his body toward Roslin but not looking her in the eyes.

"Count me in," Starbuck said without missing a beat.

Roslin nodded in appreciation at the girl. For someone so lost Kara Thrace never doubted Roslin when it came to religion. Somehow, that fact comforted her.

"No way you're going without me," Tyrol said.

Roslin forced herself not to look to closely at the protective loyal expression on his face for fear of losing control of her emotions.

"Me too," Apollo added. His words drew a harsh glare from his father.

"No. I need you here," Adama told his son. Clearly, Apollo was not happy with the statement.

"That's not fair. Just because you don't—" Lee began but Dualla put her hands on his arms and whispered calming words to him. He shook off her grasp and marched out of the CIC making a big show of his anger.

"I'll go," Dualla said in the silence after he was gone.

Her voice was small but Adama nodded to her. Kara didn't seem altogether pleased with the arrangements but she said nothing. Roslin was a little surprised by the quick support of so many people. There was a part of her mind questioning her own actions, wondering if maybe Adama was right and the Gods, the visions, the prophesy was just an elaborate hoax. After all, someone had drugged her.

News of Roslin's departure spread through the fleet like a raging fire of gossip out of control. Critics tore Roslin apart for giving into religious nonsense, her approval in the polls spiked on the _Geminion Traveler_, and Tom Zarek kept his opinions to himself as he usually did. In a somewhat surprising twist, Samuel Anders offered to be a member of the planet bound party which Roslin and the others accepted. Hotdog volunteered to be Kara's co-pilot and it seemed the group was complete and ready to depart.

A few days before they were scheduled to leave Tory entered Roslin's office and told her she had two visitors. Once Roslin gave her approval Tory nodded and only showed them in after two security guards entered the room. Helo and the petite actress Bianca Marks then followed. Roslin wasn't sure she had ever seen a more unusual pair.

The president stood and leaned across her desk. The last time she had seen Helo his wife had given her a black eye. It was not an experience Roslin wanted to repeat.

"We want to join you on the mission to the planet," Helo said, standing at attention and treating Roslin with the utmost respect.

The request was odd, and Roslin's natural instinct was to question the motives of both of them.

"Perhaps you may have a stake in this Lt. Agathon, but I don't see why you would want to go," Roslin said to Marks.

Marks stepped forward and cast a warm gaze over Roslin's shoulder.

"In your dream, you saw a dead tree with something inside," Marks said.

Roslin snapped off her glasses and continued to hover over her desk.

"Who told you that? Adama?" she questioned quickly.

"I've seen the tree. I wish to go there," the actress answered.

Roslin studied Marks with hard eyes. This woman was certainly not another Elosha. Still, there was no way Marks could have known about the tree. Roslin flipped her hair back out of her eyes.

"And you," Roslin turned to Helo.

He stood even straighter, if that were possible.

"Bianca requested I go and Sharon agreed," he answered.

Roslin had to bite her tongue from asking Helo if he always did everything his wife asked him to. Did the boy have no mind of his own? Sometimes Roslin wondered. Still, he had never done anything to lead Roslin to believe he was dangerous. Her instincts were telling her to allow these two to come along. Since she had gone this far on her gut feeling so she saw no reason to stop now. Adama refused to speak to her long ago which meant she had already lost the one thing that mattered.

"Alright, fine. Meet us on _Galactica's_ hanger deck at 0800 tomorrow," Roslin said.

She prayed she hadn't sentenced all of them to death.

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Day 19

Kara Thrace was shocked and appalled that the Admiral didn't come down to the hanger deck to wish them luck. He sent Tigh. Kara didn't even get to see Apollo, for he was to mad at his father to show up. He must have said goodbye to his wife earlier. Their departure, thus, was anticlimactic save one curiosity that caused Kara to lift an eyebrow. Tory Foster, the President's high strung assistant, ventured to the hanger deck to offer her good luck wishes to her employer and Kara's husband.

Not three days ago Anders came to Kara requesting a divorce. Everything was beginning to make sense to Kara in the most bitter of ways. Kara reminded herself she had a job to do. She had to fly the raptor to the planet and make sure nothing happened to the President. Everything else could wait. Keeping Roslin safe had been Adama's personal request. Only a few hours ago she stood in his office.

"You better bring her back alive," the Admiral ordered, "and yourself too."

Kara grinned a half smile and told Adama he better come to the hanger deck to tell his…whatever, to be careful and come back in one piece. He didn't come. Men were such wimps. No Apollo, no Adama, and an overly quite Anders. It all nearly made Kara sick to her stomach.

There was also a strange goodbye between Tyrol, his family, and Roslin. Kara lifted an eyebrow at that too. Something was up but she was too busy making last minute adjustments to the controls inside the raptor to dwell on the goodbyes going on outside.

Adama allowed the group two Raptors. Starbuck and Hotdog flew the first one, joined by Tyrol and Roslin in the back. Helo and Dualla flew the second with Bianca Marks and Anders. Kara was glad Anders hadn't picked her raptor to fly in. The journey along the second path took them nearly a day to complete, and if Anders had been in her ship the uncomfortable silence would have made her more irritable than she already was.

Even with Tyrol and Roslin in the back there were still plenty of uncomfortable silences. At one point they did strike up a conversation about Tyrol's parents which Kara found odd. In fact, the conversation made her moody and she snapped at Hotdog a few times. Roslin had never asked _her_ about her parents. Realizing she was a little bit jealous only made Starbuck even more on edge. When they hit some turbulence Starbuck was glad for the distraction.

"I don't believe it," Hotdog said, as Kara was looking down at the control panel and flipping switches.

The last thing she wanted was to send her passengers into a fit of motion sickness. Starbuck lifted her eyes to see what Hotdog was talking about. A large planet filled the window of the Raptor. Before she could say anything she felt Roslin hovering above her chair, leaning forward to see the planet.

"Is it Earth?" Roslin questioned.

Kara swallowed hard. Excitement took over her senses. What if they had just found the Promised Land? The readouts filled the computer screen. Starbucks excitement vanished.

"I doubt it. I'm reading volcanic activity covering the entire planet," she said.

If the President was disappointed she didn't show it.

"Let's get a closer look," Hotdog suggested and then informed the second Raptor of their plans.

Upon closer inspection the planet was just as Starbuck thought. A huge rock with lots of lava flows. The air was breathable which was a bit surprising, but finding a place to land would be a trick.

"Any suggestions on where we go from here?" Kara asked in general.

If Roslin really did have a vision about the planet then Kara hoped she could offer some advice. Silence filled the Raptor. Obviously Roslin's visions didn't include detailed directions.

"Hotdog," Helo said through the com, "Ms. Marks says to land in sector 76.8."

Hotdog exchanged a looked with Starbuck, who craned her head around to read Roslin's expression.

"That sounds as good as anywhere," Roslin shrugged.

Starbuck did not take comfort in Roslin's lack of intelligence into the matter. This whole frakking trip was her idea and she had no idea what they were doing? Not good at all.

"Alright Helo, we'll see you down there," Starbuck said.

With a tilt of her head Starbuck took the Raptor down.


	19. Tree of Life

_I missed posting a chapter yesterday but this one is super long and the pivotal chapter of the story. I hope you like! It's my hopefully not too lame attempt and explaining some things about the cylons. Carolann, Lady Henrietta, CrazyLikeaFox, laumae, luv4roslin, Alesia G and Mariel3 you rock!! Thank you for your awesome reviews!!! Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Day 17

Starbuck had warned them the planet was alive volcanic eruptions but the reality of the matter didn't settle with Roslin until she stepped off the Raptor. The heat nearly knocked her over. Once her eyes and body adjusted to the shock of the heat and fumes, she took in the landscape before her. As far as she could see large mountains rose in the distance spitting up the red blood of the planet. Rivers of red snaked through rocky canons and crevasses, heat visibly rising from them in the air.

Laura's heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she stared over the rough and dangerous terrain. How was she going to find a dead tree in the middle of this burning red hell? She didn't care how illogical it was, at this moment all she wanted was Adama at her side. Somehow she could face the hopelessness if he was there.

"Over here," she heard Helo yell from the other side of the Raptors.

Tyrol helped Roslin over a small dip in the jagged ground and followed her around the ships. Roslin's breath caught in her throat.

The Raptors had landed on the edge of a forest. Mist from the heat engulfed the tall trees reaching to the red sky above. Roslin had seen this particular forest many times before yet she never thought she would be standing on the threshold of it.

"Well, that's weird," Starbuck said breaking the silence that had descended on the group.

"Madame President," Tyrol said breaking her out of her momentary trance.

"I've seen this before," Roslin whispered, drawing the attention of everyone in the party.

"This way," Marks said, walking into the forced and using Helo for support.

Roslin smirked with satisfaction in seeing the actress wasn't holding up very well under the conditions. Her skin looked an unhealthy luminescent and sweat had matted some of her curly hair to her neck.

The group split off by pairs following Marks and Helo into the forest. Tyrol and Dee walked side by side a few klicks in front of Roslin and Starbuck. Anders and Hotdog were behind, each carrying a large weapon. Roslin hoped the guns wouldn't be needed.

"So," Kara began brushing a branch out of her way, "What exactly happened in this dream of yours?"

The terrain even inside the forest was still rough and Roslin found she had to look down and concentrate hard on where her feet where landing. A headache slammed into her without warning but she pushed through the pain and wearily answered.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The group entered a large clearing between the trees and Helo and Marks pulled in front of Roslin and Starbuck giving them a bit more privacy. Roslin watched Marks become weaker and weaker and actually began to worry the woman might pass out.

"Unlike the old man I don't think all religion is a hoax," Starbuck said.

Roslin had nearly forgotten what they were talking about. The heat inside the forest wasn't as extreme but it was still intense. Kara had beads of sweet on her forehead and Roslin figured she didn't look much better. A long time ago she had seen Kara this same way in the vent on board _Galactica_. The pilot had been fiercely protective of Adama in that situation. By the way Kara looked around the forest and held the large gun in both hands Roslin was flattered to see she was just as protective of her.

"Adama is wise to be cautious," the President replied.

"Sure," Kara shrugged gripping her gun a little tighter, "But he's a frakking idiot for not saying goodbye to you."

"We don't always see eye to eye," Roslin said a bit sadly.

"I think, if we live through this, you should both stop being so stupid," Kara's tone rang out almost as if she were giving orders.

Helo and Marks stopped to catch their breath and Roslin turned to see Anders and Hotdog do the same. Anders avoided looking at Starbuck.

"You're one to talk," Roslin said with a grimace.

Roslin always suspected Adama wanted his other son to fall in love with Kara Thrace.

Kara frowned and then glanced around the forest. Roslin moved away and sat down on a fallen tree next to Marks and Helo. For a moment Roslin thought her headache was about to rumble her head right off until she looked down at her mud covered boots to see the ground vibrating.

"What's that?" Roslin asked.

Helo stood up as quickly as Anders and Starbuck lifted their guns. Tyrol and Dee did the same turning their bodies in pursuit of anything dangerous to set their sights on.

The ground in front of Roslin split apart and with a crushing noise dropped into a large river of lava at the bottom of the now enormous cliff; a cliff Dee and Tyrol had been on the losing side of.

Helo lunged forward on his stomach and slide across the ground throwing up dust until he stopped with one arm hanging over the edge. Starbuck was beside Roslin on the ground, knocked off balance by the quaking.

Roslin heard a scream. The familiar woman's scream she heard in her dream. It was Dee's voice. Starbuck scrambled to her feet and over to where Helo had half his body leaning over the edge. Roslin watched the gapping hole where Tyrol and Dee stood with her throat tight and tears in her eyes. Slowly, Helo, with the help of Starbuck, lifted Tyrol by both hands up over the side of the cliff.

Petty Officer Anastasia Dualla was gone. Starbuck pounded the ground with her fists and Helo looked stricken. Tyrol's eyes welled with water and Roslin had to her head away. Dualla was so young. So young. Just like Billy.

This planet was a death sentence for them. Lee Adama would never forgive himself for letting his wife go. Roslin couldn't stand the thought of bringing so much pain to the young man.

"Look there," Marks yelled, snapping everyone out of their grief.

Roslin blinked away the hot tears and looked in the direction Marks was pointing. Down the ravine just in front of them were the ruins of some ancient castle. Instinctually Roslin knew, just as Marks seemed to, they found what they were looking for…but at what cost?

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Adama was surprised to see his son so soon after the last fight they had. Apollo was all business as he stood at attention in front of Adama's desk.

"At ease," Adama ordered, but Lee continued to stand rigidly.

"I only came to update you on the investigation into the Chamalla incident involving the President," Lee formally explained.

Adama leaned back in his chair and fought the urge to growl at his son's stubbornness.

"I made some contacts, legal and illegal, on recent purchases of Chamalla," Lee began as if he were a robot, "One vendor did sell Chamalla to someone you might find interesting."

Lee paused and Adama looked up. When his son didn't look down or answer Adama gave in.

"Who?"

Lee finally bent down of his father's desk and looked Adama straight in the eye.

"Bianca Marks," Lee scolded, turned on his heel and left the room.

Adama frowned. Why would Bianca Marks want to give Roslin Chamalla?

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The castle was in remarkable condition considering how old it was and the planetary contentions constantly at war with it.

Tyrol set up a small camp site inside the main entrance to the ruins where the party rested and ate. Roslin studied each person trying to gage their physical and emotional conditions.

Kara ate fast and kept looking over her shoulder. The Viper pilot tried to keep herself busy, probably to keep from dwelling on Dee's death. As soon as she was finished eating she announced to everyone she was going to take a look around. Tyrol seemed annoyed with her hyper activeness. He brooded over his food and kept watching Roslin out of the corner of his eye and pretending not to. She found the action sweet, though she knew he took Dee's death quite hard.

Anders and Hotdog ate in silence, conserving their energy and most likely trying to cast aside thoughts of the terrible events of the day.

Helo stayed near Bianca Marks and didn't say much. Roslin didn't know why but something made her stand and walk over to Marks and Agathon. Marks looked worse then when they started. Her skin seemed to have developed some kind of spotty red rash showing in random places on her arms and cheek. Her dark eyes turned greyer and lost some of their sparkle.

"Madame President," Helo said, and got to his feet.

"Unbelievable," Roslin said to him, her voice stern.

Helo's brow furrowed but he said nothing.

"After everything I've done to you," Roslin began, her voice low, "You still treat me with respect."

Roslin watched Helo's jaw clench and he muttered through his teeth.

"You are the President of the Twelve Colonies, even if I hate you, I can still respect you," he said.

It was the honesty that struck Roslin most about the boy before her. She figured it was time for her to be honest too.

"Please, sit down," Roslin encouraged sitting next to Marks.

Helo hesitantly obeyed. Once on the ground he turned his head away from her.

"Do you remember when you said you hoped someone took away the thing I loved," Roslin asked.

Her words quickly regained Helo's full attention. Bitterness and uncertainty twisted in his eyes.

"You should know how it feels," he replied.

Roslin glanced at Marks, wishing the woman would leave them to have a private conversation. The actress merely watched with interest. Roslin pressed on anyway. Marks already knew how Roslin felt about Adama, she might as well know everything else too.

"Thanks to you, I don't have to. Tyrol is my son and you just saved his life," Roslin blurted.

Marks let out a gasp with a pleased smile behind it. Roslin paid no attention, however, as she was watching Helo's expression carefully. Before he fully comprehended the matter she stood up.

"Thank you….and I'm glad you have your child back," Roslin said and walked away.

Perhaps one of the most difficult things she had ever done was talk to the husband of the cylon. She was grateful some experiences she would never have to relive.

"Hey, everyone, come check this out," Starbuck yelled from inside the ruins.

Roslin and the others walked inside the large enclosure, through the main entrance and down a winding corridor until they found Kara standing in front of a large open door. As Roslin neared she saw a tree, a dead tree in the middle of the room, with light from an open crack in the ceiling casting light on it.

On each side of the door were two large black columns humming with electricity. The sleek black plating made the column's looked as new as the day they were built. Dust hadn't gathered on them and the architecture didn't match that of the ruins. These were tall metal slabs with a sharp point at the top.

"I've seen that tree, Bianca, have you?" Roslin asked.

If this woman really was an oracle as she claimed Roslin decided there was no point in hiding things from her any longer.

"Yes," the woman answered weakly, continuing to lean on Helo's arm.

"What does it mean?" Anders questioned, stepping up beside Roslin.

"One way to find out," Starbuck replied with a cocky turned of the head.

She walked up to the columns and stuck out her hand.

"No, wait!" Marks yelled but Starbuck was already recoiling in pain.

The girl clasped her hand to her chest and felling backward on the ground. Roslin and Anders both kneeled to help her. Anders gently pulled her hand away to examine the damage. Her fingers were red and blistered as if they had been badly burned.

"What the hell was that?" Starbuck asked as Anders lifted her to her feet.

"Who cares," he said and lifted his automatic.

He opened fire on the columns hoping to bring them down but only causing bullets to ricochet and ring loudly through the room. Roslin covered her ears with her hands until the sound of gun fire stopped. She was relieved to find holes had only been made in the room and no one in it.

"Way to go genius," Starbuck spat at her ex-husband and snatched away his gun with her uninjured hand.

"So, how do we get inside?" Tyrol asked, as he eyed the columns up and down.

"You don't," Marks said and stepped out of Helo's grasp.

She approached the columns and before anyone could stop her walked between them. Roslin heard no cries of pain and saw no injury befall the actress.

"President Roslin and I do," Marks said.

Roslin fought the urge to step backward and knew everyone must have seen the uncertainly on her face.

"This was part of my vision. You will not be harmed," Bianca explained as if she were foretelling some ancient scripture.

The tree had been part of Roslin's dream, but then again, so had her own death. The President slowly approached the columns until Kara's hand caught her arm.

"You don't have to do this," Kara said.

Roslin really looked at Starbuck for the first time then. The girl was a mess personally and professionally but she was alive, she was human, she had hope, she had the dream of Earth and belief that Roslin and Adama would find it. More than any other time, here and now Roslin felt like the leader foretold by Pythia. Whether or not she was didn't matter, what mattered was find Earth and saving her people, like Kara Thrace.

"I want to," Roslin answered and stepped through the entrance.

At first she felt nothing and thought she would pass through as easily as Bianca. Her chest began to burn with intense pain, nearly bringing her to her knees. Her headache pounded harder and her eyes couldn't focus.

All see could see was Bianca's blurry form and hear a faint echo of voice urging her to keep going. She staggered a few steps further, out from between the columns and the burning, the pain stopped. Her legs gave away and she felt Bianca catch her before she hit the ground. A few minutes passed before Roslin was coherent enough to grasp what was happening. Starbuck and Tyrol were yelling on the other side of the columns though she heard no sound. Helo was looking at Roslin trying to get her to respond.

Roslin shook her head and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Roslin said, and received shocked stares from the party on the other side of the columns.

"What happened?" Roslin asked Marks.

The actress didn't answer but instead turned and heading for the tree in the middle of the large room.

Starbuck took a step forward as if she were about to reach through the columns and hold Roslin back protectively. The President gave Kara a reassuring look and left the group outside the entrance.

"I never dreamed I would be here," Marks said as she approached the tree.

Roslin looked around the room recognizing ancient languages of the scriptures on the walls. On the far wall behind the tree was a large mural. The dead tree was drawn just as it appeared in the room and inside, where the golden spiral had been in her dream, was a planet. This was the planet she had seen with the green continents and blue oceans.

"Earth," Marks said, gaining Roslin's attention. "All you have to do is reach inside and take it."

Roslin narrowed her eyes and walked back in front of the tree to face Marks. Inside the grey trunk of the tree was a hole containing a golden twisted rod.

"How do you know so much about this? Even if you were having dreams, they don't make sense. The images are jumbled, not coherent," Roslin explained.

Marks' lips had lost much of their color.

"You are a clever one," she said, with her familiar warm smile.

She lifted a pale red spotted hand and gestured toward the writing along the top of the room.

"Do you know what that says?" she asked.

Roslin tilted her head to one side and waited for the explanation.

"It says, only demon may enter, only man may leave," Marks said.

"A demon?" Roslin questioned, now totally confused by everything.

Since the excitement of the discovery had worn off a little the burning in Roslin's chest remained, though it was easily ignored.

"The ancient scriptures refer to cylon's as demons. A lesser demon guided the people on Kobol, and so guides you now," Marks said.

Roslin let out an alarmed breath and looked back toward the door wondering if she could escape.

"You are a cylon," she coolly remarked.

Bianca lifted her chin as if she was proud of the fact.

"Not your average cylon," she said, "I am Two."

"But, I…I'm not a cylon, why is it I could enter?" Roslin asked.

She didn't fear for her life at this moment, for she realized if Two really wanted to kill her she could have done so long before now.

"You are the leader of the Prophesy," Two answered.

Roslin folded her arms and gave Two a skeptical look.

"Alright, you want the scientific explanation, here it is," Two began, "This is the tree of life to the human and the tree of death to the cylons. Earth holds life for humans and death for the cylons. The ancient writing on these walls tells us so, and the five believe it.

"I argued that cylons should leave the human race behind and start a life for ourselves. The first cylon war drew to a standstill and I convinced the others to travel far away and discover who we are. But my brothers and sisters could not leave the need for revenge behind, perhaps they are more human then they would like to admit."

Marks smirked a little but Roslin was too intrigued by her story to pay attention to the small details. Finally she was getting some answers about the cylons and the war. If the writing on these walls was true Earth would be a poison to the cylons fulfilling its place as the Promised Land. Despite the fatigue and sickness and fear coursing through her veins Laura Roslin felt more alive than she had in years.

"There were six of us who stood against six," Marks continued, her face growing ever paler, "…and lost. I am the last of the Two series, and my followers are small in number. As the others prepared for the attack on the Twelve Colonies we hide among the humans, and protected our greatest secret…the way to Earth. We found this planet long ago, a remnant, like the space stations, from the thirteenth tribe. The key to Earth is inside this tree but as the writing says, only a cylon may enter, only a human may leave."

Two walked over to a dark corner near the rear of the room and drew Roslin's attention to the bones of a dozen or so human skeletons.

"My brothers, who died here. We could never unlock the secret of this room. Even if one of us had been able to remove the golden rod within the tree, we couldn't bring it through the gates. We needed a human-cylon hybrid. Our secret was recently uncovered by a traitor to us making the odds sway…five to seven now. Leoben used to be one of us. It's why he connected with you and Kara Thrace. There are still models of him that believe in the side he used to be on. Once he told the seven of this place the drive to create a hybrid began."

Marks coughed violently before she had the strength to continue. Roslin helped the woman sit at the base of the tree.

"The cylons would wait years if they had to, until Hera was old enough to enter this chamber. But luck, it would seem, was on our side. The seven didn't know about the space stations and they don't believe in your prophesy as we do. The DNA that saved your life is that of the cylon child. We believed there was just enough cylon in you to allow you to enter this chamber," Marks explained.

"Thank you, for taking a chance with my life," Roslin said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Despite her weakened condition Two managed a chuckle.

"Chamalla allows the cylons to enter the minds of humans. It breaks down a normally impenetrable barrier of the subconscious, so the cylons can place imagines and ideas in your mind. It's how Leoben was able to show you visions before. It's how I guided you to this place.

"You know, we have a prophesy of our own. I showed it to you. There will be a cylon, whom I believe is Sharon, that will bring peace to the humans and cylons on Earth. But you and I will not have to worry about that, we will be dead long before that day arrives."

"I thought you said I would live," Roslin said.

"This planet will kill any cylon who stays here long enough. The trap at the front door will kill any cylon who tries to leave. Without the cylon in you, how long do you think you have before the illness of you human body returns?" Marks asked coughing.

Roslin swallowed hard and brushed the thought aside. She may still have years left to live, no one could be certain.

"Now," Marks said her eyes bright once again, "Take the key and fulfill your scripture."

Roslin stood up and looked into the hollow of the tree. With a shaking hand she reached into the tree and grasped her fingers around the golden spiral. Nothing happened. She frowned and tried tugging on it but it wouldn't come lose. Here she was, fulfilling her destiny as the leader of Pythia's prophesy about to uncover the key to finding earth and she had no idea how the thing worked.

She placed her left hand, her scared hand, into the tree to pull on the spiral with double effort. The moment her left hand touched it she felt another hand on top of hers. She looked down and saw white bony fingers tighten around her wrist. She looked up and the tree was gone, Two was gone, the room was gone. She was in the forest again, in her glowing white night gown. Face to face with her stood a tall creature, with the dark eyes of a human being but white skin altogether unnatural.

On his right hand was a scar the same shape and position as the one on Roslin's hand. The creature closed his eyes and suddenly Roslin's mind was filled with space and stars and planets. This creature, this man, showed her the thirteenth tribe. He had been a part of them; appointed to wait thousands of years until the leader of Twelve Colonies was ready to find the lost tribe.

Suddenly, she was inside _Galactica_, inside the computer systems, searching for the FTL drive, her hand burned where the creature was touching her.

Pain burned into her chest and the member of the thirteenth tribe opened his eyes in surprise. Leoben's image flashed before Roslin's eyes and suddenly she was on a Cylon Basestar, staring into the face of a strange woman in a pool of glowing white water. The woman's eyes were large and hollow and she was repeating numbers. The entire ship was filled with the numbers. Roslin was about to cry out in pain when she opened her eyes. The man drew his hand back in pain and stumbled backward, his face contorted.

"Survive," he whispered and everything was as it was.

The tree was back, Two was leaning against the it, her shallow breathing the only sound in the large chamber. Roslin looked down at her hand. Steam was rising off of it. She had been branded like a cow, which wasn't exactly flattering. There were numbers etched into her skin that looked like jump coordinates. She felt safe in assuming the number were the way to earth. These where the same numbers the strange machine woman was mumbling on the Cylon Basestar.

Roslin bent down next to Marks.

"Did you get it?" Marks asked.

"Yes," Roslin replied looking at her hand.

"We don't believe in your Gods, but I always knew you were the leader."

"How?" Roslin asked.

"The scroll. The scroll said being the leader would be a choice. From the beginning I knew you wanted it. You wouldn't have announced you illness to the fleet and caused a military uprising if you didn't believe," Marks explained.

"What scroll?" Roslin asked and Marks' eyes grew wide.

"Sharon…Adama," she mumbled and took a deep breath to continue more coherently, "He never showed you the scroll. Ask him about it when you get back to the fleet."

"I can't just leave you here," she said, not quite able to believe she was saying such a thing to a cylon.

"I had a good run," Marks whispered with a smile, "The humans applauded me night after night. I connected them to a little piece of cylon culture. I got to be part of human history."

Roslin smiled sadly at the woman and shook her head.

"Why did you have to turn out to be so likable?" Roslin asked teasing.

"I made a career out of making people like me. If I've convinced you then I really am worthy of a Caprican Theater Statuette," Marks replied.

Roslin smiled and took the woman's hand. Marks squeezed it then dropped it away.

"Now, go," she ordered. Reluctantly, Roslin obeyed the orders of a cylon.

As she rose to her feet she felt the hand which had been burning. Her skin was cool even though slight steam was lifting from it. She approached the columns and saw the stricken faces of the people on the other side. With a deep inhale Roslin braced herself for the return journey through the doorway. Her fear was unfounded because the second time through she felt no pain. Perhaps the truth of Bianca's words about the gateway where the reason behind Roslin's trust in the cylon. Perhaps it was Bianca's selfless death in a cold lonely chamber her only audience now the rotting bones of her dead brothers.

Some thing could not be explained. Roslin only knew she trusted what had just happened and out of her trust in a cylon came the true map to Earth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 14

Adama hated himself for not saying goodbye to Roslin. There was no way he was going to miss her home coming in triumph. Roslin had found Earth. Adama could hardly believe it when Starbuck radioed the jump coordinates. As soon as they were clear of the interference from the space stations they would be able to jump to Earth. Earth.

Adama just couldn't believe it. He glanced at himself in his dress uniform and hurried down to the hanger bay to welcome the party. A small group of officers and reporters had gathered for the reunion. Tigh stood on Adama's right and Lee on the left. Adama's heart went out to his son for the loss of his wife but much to his own dismay Bill Adama really cared about nothing except seeing Laura Roslin. His petty officer and daughter-in-law, Earth, a new known cylon, the space stations, none of it mattered right now…only Laura. Laura.

The single raptor landed, as they had lost the other Raptor during the same quake that killed Dualla.

The Raptor door lifted open slowly. Helo was the first to step out, nearly before his feet touched the floor of the hanger deck Sharon's arms were around him. Tyrol stepped out next and the same thing happened to him. Hotdog exited next followed by Anders who received a lingering handshake from Roslin's assistant.

Starbuck followed and a smile lit up her dirty face when she saw the two Adama's standing side by side. She ran down the ramp and jumped into Adama's arms. He could feel Lee stiffen at his side as if he were jealous. Kara leaned forward and whispered in Adama's ear.

"If you don't kiss her I will kick your ass, old man," she said and released him with a huge smile still on her face.

When she faced Lee it faded. She stuck out her hand and shook his.

"I'm sorry about your wife," she choked out and then took off toward Tyrol and Cally.

Lee's mouth hung open as if Kara had just punched him in the stomach.

Finally, Laura Roslin stepped out of the Raptor. Adama was alarmed by how worn and tired she looked. Her hair was a mess and her face was pale but she had a smile on her beautiful lips and her eyes sparkled. Helo helped her down the ramp of the Raptor only let go of her hand when she stood in front of Adama. Helo received a sharp glare from his wife which Adama might have noticed had his senses not been over taken by the woman in front of him.

Only a moment before the hanger deck was filled with talking and laughter but silence descended as Adama faced Roslin. He knew all eyes were on them. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Adama stepped forward, took Roslin by the arms and leaned forward.

"Laura," he said and kissed her in front of a hanger deck full of people before his lips could form any more words. Roslin kissed him back without any inhibitions.

Once they parted she smiled at him, that sweet, loving smile he remembered from what seemed like forever ago.

The hanger deck was only silent for another lingering minute, until applause, started by a whoop from Kara, erupted among the officers. Laura laughed and leaned into his shoulder, turning to face the officers with a bright smile and a little embarrassment. Adama lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips only adding fuel to the already loud applause.

"Way to go, old man," Hotdog yelled above the noise and laughter filled the deck.

Sensing Roslin was through with the joking and exhausted; Adama stepped back and offered her an arm to escort her out of the mass of celebratory officers.

Before he put her on a shuttle to _Colonial One_ she insisted on telling him, in great detail, everything that had happened. Adama wasn't sure what to make of it all, the strange being, the tree, the cylon, but he knew he trusted Roslin. If she said she had the jump coordinates to Earth then she had them. Adama felt no need to question the matter any further and didn't see any reason the fleet should to. They were going to Earth because of Laura Roslin. She had made a truth out of his lie to the fleet. That is all anyone needed to know.


	20. Reality

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_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Day 12

The mess hall, the officers quarters, the CIC, even the news casts over the wireless were all buzzing excitedly over two subjects. Earth was one. The other was the kiss between the fleet's President and Admiral, caught on film by a number of reporters, which beat out Earth as front page news in some quite respectable papers. Everyone seemed to feel the excitement. Everyone, that is, except Kara Thrace.

How dare Anders ruin her happiness by asking her for a divorce? Not that she was happy with him, but it was the principle of the matter. She gave him one, of course, because she really didn't have any other choice. And this way he was the one that would be damned eternally, not her. She never cheated on him. Now with her newly acquired freedom and Anastasia Dualla's tragic death…certain possibilities suddenly opened up.

Kara avoided being anywhere that Lee might be, which is why she found herself sitting in the office just outside the President's office on _Colonial One_.

Starbuck still had her pride and she wouldn't let anyone take that away from her, especially not some pencil pushing bureaucrat named Tory Foster. If Anders really wanted a high strung, briefcase for a wife he could have her, but after Kara got back some of her pride.

Roslin's assistant had been on the phone since Kara entered the office over fifteen minutes ago. She was arguing with some representative about the legitimacy of the jump coordinates Roslin risked her life to find. Kara was beginning to lose patience and nerve the longer she waited.

Right before Kara was about to stand up and dash out of the room, Roslin emerged from her office and greeted Kara with a warm smile. Why of all time did she have to talk to the President now?

"Good morning, Captain Thrace," Roslin began cheerfully, "What brings you here?"

"Uh…" was the only answer Starbuck could manage.

Roslin glanced from her assistant to Starbuck and the look made Kara feel like a small insignificant bug.

"I wanted to thank you," Roslin began, sitting down carefully in the plush chair next to Kara's, "for everything you did on the planet. For volunteering to go in the first place."

"We should thank you, Madame President, for finding Earth," Kara responded.

Roslin tilted her head toward Tory still on the phone arguing.

"I do have my critics. We haven't seen Earth yet. Many think I was coerced by the cylons. I'm not sure what I believe," Roslin explained, looking at the ground in front of her.

Kara snorted softly.

"Yes, you are. You know you found Earth. Like I know it, like the old man knows it. The critics can go frak themselves," Kara responded.

Roslin smiled at Kara and nodded.

"Lee and I aren't having an affair," Starbuck suddenly blurted and then cursed herself under her breath for having an unexpected attack of conscience.

"You needn't confess to me. I'm hardly one to judge," Roslin said with secrets hidden in her eyes.

Kara still felt the need to explain her relationship with Lee.

"Your opinion is important to him. I just didn't want you to think—"

Kara was cut short by Roslin's waving hand.

"I don't want to hear it," she said firmly.

Kara still didn't give up.

"But the old man—" she again tried to speak but this time Roslin stood up and walked across the room.

For the life of her, Kara couldn't figure out the President's strange behavior. Roslin must have seen Kara's confusing because she explained herself.

"I'm sorry Starbuck. I just can't let myself get involved personally."

Kara stood up as Tory finally hung up the phone. Kara wasn't one to go toe to toe with Roslin in a staring match, as that was better left to Adama, but right now she took up the challenge.

"Frak, lady, you already are. The Adamas are good men, stop hurting them," Kara ordered the President.

She was flying high on adrenaline. Never in her life did she think she would order the President to do anything. Kara left the President standing clench jawed and approached Tory's desk.

"If you ever cross my path again, wonder-witch," Kara said with a harsh smile, "I will pull a Roslin and chuck your ass out the airlock."

Tory dropped her jaw and looked sufficiently afraid. Her eyes maneuvered around Kara and seemed to beg the President for help. Both women in the room were glaring at her with contempt.

"My work here is done," Kara announced happily and sauntered out of the room.

"What does she mean, pull a Roslin?" Starbuck heard the President demand of her aid.

Kara laughed all the way to the shuttle bay. Now she could find Lee.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 8

"That's enough," Lee yelled.

Apollo scowled at Adama and Roslin as if they were delinquents, standing in the principles office instead of Adama quarters.

"Admiral, Madame President, you know I respect both of you even if I sometimes don't agree with you. I may lose my wings for this but what the hell. It seems to me the problem here is that Laura and Bill are in love but Admiral Adama and President Roslin can't be. It's really quite painful to watch. Kara and I have discussed it quite a few times. We wondered when you wouldn't be able to fight it anymore. Kara said, and her exact words where 'the old man still has some fight left and someday he will frak Laura Roslin upside down, mark my words.' Which is just really disturbing and something I never want to think about again but there you go," Lee explained matter-of-factly.

Adama was too shocked to say anything but Roslin obviously had not been affected the same way.

"Is that what the fleet is saying about us?" She asked Lee, her voice as natural as if she were asking for a ration list update.

"No," Lee shrugged, "That's what Kara says, and what I think."

Roslin nodded slightly and looked up at Bill. He was beginning to feel like he was in some strange alternate world.

"Well, then, no need to delay Kara's prophesy any longer," Roslin said and practically jumped into Adama's arms.

Her normal grey business suit was replaced by a long red dress with a split up the side. She began kissing him fiercely and Adama felt her leg wrap around his as he gave into her embrace.

Lee gave out a strange loud laugh and then started to speak.

"Admiral…admiral," came a faint voice.

Suddenly Bill was lying in his quarters stretched out on the couch with a book lying across his chest. When he opened his eyes he was more than a little alarmed to see Laura Roslin standing over him, gently touching his shoulder.

She snatched her hand back quickly.

"I'm sorry," Roslin softly apologize, "Our meeting was scheduled for—"

"No, I'm sorry. I must have dozed off. I was going to—"

Adama suddenly stopped and looked up at Roslin. She stood above him but not like in his dream. She was much softer, peering over him with her arms folded in the glow of the soft light of his quarters. He remembered how good he felt just dreaming about kissing her and then pushed the thought as far away as it would go. It wasn't far.

"Admiral is something wrong," Roslin questioned.

"Bad dream," he replied.

She picked up the book he was reading and then sat down on the couch next to him.

"Care to talk about it? It does help," she offered with a genuine smile.

Adama tried to hide the momentary mortification that swept over him at the mere thought of telling her what he had been dreaming.

"No," was the extent of his answer.

He was sure his face was the color of Laura's deep red dress in the dream. He sent a sideways glance to her and saw the most beautiful devilishly delicious smile curve her lips.

"Bill Adama, were you having a naughty dream about me?" she asked, choking back giggles.

He liked her teasing. Since the return from the planet their entire relationship seemed changed for the better.

"You woke me up before I got to the good part," he said, his voice not wavering from its normal deep emotionless tone.

Roslin's giggles grew louder and filled the space of his quarters.

"I'm sorry, but my imaginary self will have to go. I was scheduled," she said, after the giggles stopped.

Adama noticed how frail she looked. He wasn't one to dare venture a comment on a woman's weight, but she did look like she had been losing some.

"The real thing is much better anyway," he told her.

A smile brightened her sad features.

"Do you think this is really it, Bill?" Laura asked him rapidly changing the subject much to his amusement.

He noticed that she often drew back when it came to more…physical matters. The inquisitive glint as she asked the question made her look like a little child.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he returned.

He was enjoying sitting so close to her on the sofa. The longer she talked about he-didn't-care-what the longer he could enjoy just being near to her after their long separation.

"Maybe this is just a cylon trick. Maybe the coordinates lead to a trap. Maybe what I thought I saw isn't what I saw," she reasoned.

For someone who just risked everything on a vision quest she was certainly full of self doubt. Adama felt privileged, however, because she was sharing with him her deepest anxieties. Her openness seemed to take their relationship back to where it used to be.

"Maybe I started the cylon war. Maybe Baltar is an innocent man," Adama explained drawing a snort from the President at the mention of Dr. Baltar.

"What I know is these coordinates are worth taking a chance on," he reassured her.

Though he hated leaving the sanctuary of her side he couldn't keep the scroll from her any longer. It seemed to be the last thing looming like a dark cloud over the trust they used to have in each other. He removed the brown paper from his desk under the scrutiny of Roslin's eyes. Though he might regret it later, he still sat next to her, unwilling to give up the closeness so soon. Of course, he was running the risk of being slapped if her reaction to the scroll was as he feared.

"What's this?" She asked as she pulled her glasses out of her pocket.

Adama watched her read the scroll entranced in the words. He resisted the urge to touch the hair resting on her shoulder.

"Bianca Marks gave this to Sharon, for your eyes only," Adama explained.

Roslin slowly placed the scroll in her lap and then removed her glasses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder and Adama's eyes followed it. Perhaps it wasn't the best time to focus on her hair at the expense of reading her reaction to his deceit.

"Why keep it from me?" She asked, looking forward instead of facing him.

He was relieved he didn't have to meet her scolding expression yet.

"The scroll says the leader will be lesser of species, a woman; will be of meek origin and rise with strength; will bear good fruit; will wed the war god. I was afraid you would read the signs in this scroll and—"

"Cause another military coup?" Roslin finished and brought her eyes to rest on Adama.

He had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. She didn't leave his side, however, and as long as she was near he didn't care what she thought. He lowered his eyes, unable to form a response without knowing how to read her.

"Two couldn't have known about Tyrol until I spoke of it on the planet," Roslin mused to herself.

Her eyes focused on something in front of her and she seemed to be remembering her time on the planet.

"Bill," she said turning to meet his gaze after snapping out of whatever memory she was in.

He saw a mischievous twitch pull at the corner of her mouth.

"Are you sure you didn't want to show me because you were afraid I might hold you to the part about wedding the god of war?" She questioned.

Though she didn't smile Adama knew he had been forgiven. Not only that, she had just given him the opportunity to bring up the subject of marriage. A subject he had wanted to broach for a long time.

"You know the moment we land on Earth I will marry you. I'll even build a cabin for you, near a lake with water as clear as glass," he said his voice very low and protective.

Roslin shook her head slowly and smiled a little sadly.

"It was never about the cabin."

The two of them smiled at each other, dumbfounded of what to do or say next. Adama wondered if he asked her to stay tonight, would she? Of course, he was still the Admiral of the fleet and the rules forbid him from making such a gesture. Instead he took her hand and held it to his face. Her fingers were a little cold but her touch was soft and filled him with loving gratitude for her safe return.

"I know," he replied after a long minute or two.

He let Roslin's hand fall away from him. Determination and fear suddenly washed over her face and Adama thought for a moment something was wrong. She reached out with both her hands, latched on the lapels of his uniform, and pulled his lips to hers.

Adama heard her shoes clunk to the floor and felt her legs snake up to rest on his lap. The real thing was definitely better than a dream. Maybe he wouldn't have to ask her to stay…


	21. Mint and Vanilla

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_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Day 7

Life was good. Adama couldn't remember ever being in a better mood. He woke up to the vanilla mint smell of Roslin's hair. She had left hours ago but her sent still lingered in his quarters. He thought it was only in his quarters but he seemed to smell her everywhere he went. In the CIC, on the hanger deck, during his meeting with the fighter pilots and all the other places he visited had that same indescribably pleasing aroma.

Why hadn't he ever noticed it on _Colonial One_? If he went there now he was sure he would smell it. In fact, throughout the day he found himself trying to come up with excuses to see her.

_Madame President, I needed your input on the FTL drive, _he thought, as he walked down the hall to his quarters. No, no, no, she wouldn't know about something that technical_. Madame President, I'm concerned about the fleet. They seem to be excited about reaching Earth and their celebrating is getting out of hand? _No way that would fly, she was more than capable of dealing with such a minor issue on her own. That might insult her intelligence. _Madame President, I had to see you today because…well…there is no reason really, except, of course, that I love you._ Now that she would buy.

His shoulders sagged in defeat. He was pathetic. How a woman could reduce the Admiral of a Battlestar to a hopeless basket case was beyond his comprehension.

When he opened the door of his office he saw Lee and Doctor Cottle sitting on the sofa. He eyed them curiously but nothing could destroy his good mood today.

"Hi, son, you're looking good today," he began cheerfully, "Doc, how's business?"

Apollo smiled wearily, most likely in awe of Adama's blatant happiness. Cottle looked morbid, but that was really the only expression the old doctor ever had. He was relieved Kara wasn't there to read his mood or she probably would have said something like, _who laid you last night?_ Adama grinned. No chance she would ever get an answer to that question.

"You might want to pour yourselves a drink," Dr. Cottle told him looking somber.

Adama didn't look at his son. He kept his eyes on Cottle. The Doctor had bad news. Adama could see it now. Very. Bad. News.

"Whatever it is, stay it." Adama's tone was gruff and short tempered.

He hated he could only have one day of complete bliss before something else came along to ruin it. Cottle let his eyes fall to the papers in his hands. He looked back up and Adama thought for a brief second he saw the hint of tears.

"The cancer."

The two words Adama dreaded more than any others. An unquenchable silence descended into the private sanitary of William Adama's office like a nuclear winter. No one spoke. No one moved. He couldn't smell vanilla and mint anymore.

"How long?" Adama's gruff voice was low now, hardly more than a desperate whisper.

Cottle lifted his eyes but Adama kept his gaze averted.

"Days, a week…at most."

Cottle dropped his eyes again.

Adama started to shake his head, then rose from the couch and walked over to the drink stand. The loud ringing in his ears was nearly unbearable. He poured a shaky glass hoping to drown out the sound with the Ambrosia. Before the glass hit his lips an overwhelming anger pounded through his veins. _Frak the living world._ He dropped the glass, bent over, picked up a chair and hurled it into the bookcase across the room. The chair crashed to the floor and a few books fluttered from the shelf and landed at odd angles.

"Dad…"

Adama heard Lee's choked up voice barely audible in the silence that returned after the outburst. Adama head nothing then but ringing. Felt nothing but anger.

"I thought…" Lee tried to say again.

He stopped, cleared his throat, and had his father been facing him would have seen the boy wipe a tear away from his face.

"I thought the cylon DNA…"

"Whatever she was exposed to on the planet counteracted it. I tried to apply the cylon DNA to the infected cells but it had no effect this time," Cottle explained, his voice finding strength in the scientific explanation.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Apollo asked not hiding the raw emotion in his voice.

Despair was bleeding from every corner of the room and seeping deep into Adama's heart. He could feel sharp burning in his chest. He felt like his own heart was bleeding from the pain. Cottle shook his head slowly from side to side.

"It's like a virus. It will just keep killing the cylon DNA if we try to inject her again. She was living on borrowed time as it was," Cottle replied.

Lee stood and walked over to the bar next to his father. Without a word the son put his arms around his father's shoulders.

Adama refused to let himself cry openly over this. He refused to let his son or Cottle or anyone else see just how terribly deeply this news had destroyed his spirit. His hope. His reason to survive. Laura.

"I thought you should tell her," Cottle announced.

Not until a few seconds after the Doctor had spoken did Adama register the words. _Tell her_. How could he keep himself together enough to be in the same room with her, let alone break such news to her?

Adama had to see her now. He had to prove to his own mind that for now, right now, she was alive. He had to smell that smell again. He pulled away from his son and walked out of his quarters. Now he had an excuse to see her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kara Thrace finally managed to work up the courage to talk to Lee Adama she nearly retreated when she found him in a deserted officer's bunk sitting on a bed with his head in his hands. He was probably still grieving over his late wife and Kara didn't want to interfere with that. How would that make both of them look? If she just hopped into his arms only a week after Dualla died that would make them both sluts.

Despite her hesitation another part of Kara was telling her, ordering her to stop wasting time. With the prospect of Earth and a new life on the horizon Kara wanted just that, a new life. She hoped Lee Adama would want to be part of her new life. Mistakes had been made, terrible mistakes she was afraid Lee could never forgive her for.

Her clothes rustled as she stepped into the room causing Lee to look up at her with a stricken face. He was grieving and she had no right to bother him.

"Sorry," Kara said and turned to leave.

"No," Apollo called after her.

When she turned around his head was back in his hands. His eyes where fixed on the floor between his knees. Kara slowly approached and sat herself down next to him.

"Is it Dee?" she asked, cursing herself for bringing up the subject she wanted to avoid.

Lee laughed bitterly and lowered his hands. Kara could see the water in his eyes. Lee Adama was not the crying type. Maybe he loved Dee after all.

"Dualla was a…a gentle person," Lee began and Kara turned away.

She didn't know how she could deal with the rejection she knew was coming.

"I will miss her..." Lee trailed off.

There was silence for a moment and Kara readied herself to leave.

"…but you know I've always loved you. I meant what I shouted to the world on New Caprica. This isn't about Dee."

Kara felt the same excitement and happiness she had only tasted that night. He still loved her. She knew it! Well, actually she had doubted it, but now he said it again and this time she would make things right. A smile broke out on her face.

"I love Lee Adama!" she yelled, and her voice echoed in the empty room.

Lee actually let a smile creep through the sorrow on his face. Misery took over again and Kara knew something really, really bad had happened. Her stomach knotted just by the expression Lee wore. This is how she had felt just before the reality of the attack on the Colonies and been confirmed.

"What is it?" she asked, dreading what his answer would be.

He turned away from her, his jaw struggling to say the words. When he faced her again she saw the water in his eyes caught the reflection of the above lights.

"Dr. Cottle just told me and my dad," he said and swallowed hard, "that Laura only has a week. The cancer…"

"Laura?" Kara repeated.

She had never heard Apollo use the president's first name. Somehow right here and right now it seemed right. The reality hit her hard, just like news of the nuking of Caprica. She ran a hand through her hair.

"No…no, no, no," she said shaking her head in disbelief.

"My dad just went to tell her," Lee barely managed to choke out.

Kara looked at him, sure her face matched the expression he wore. She felt her own tears starting but she fought them back. Lee looked so lost and helpless. She would be strong for him.

As the tears made a path down his cheek, she heard the sobs start. She let his head rest below her chin and put her arms around his shoulders. They cried together. Kara didn't know how long they stayed there, leaning on each other for comfort, mourning the impending death of the woman who was like a mother; she only knew Lee was in her arms and together they could survive anything.

"Lee," Kara said softly, "I want her to see us together before she dies."

She heard him sniff and his grip tightened around her waist. His head pressed closer to her and she felt him nod against her collarbone. Yes, they could survive anything together. Kara knew it now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adama should have known. The past few weeks she was weak and pale and tired but he just attributed it to the recent journey planet side. There was one part of the prophesy he could not deny now…the leader was dying.

_A week at most_. The words pounded through Adama's mind as he rode the shuttle to _Colonial One_. Earth was a little more than a week away. She had to live to see it. Life demanded nothing less. Earth had been her dream, her vision and he would do everything in his power to make sure she saw it fulfilled.

Adama shifted his gaze to the hovering ships outside the small Raptor window. Seven days was still far away. Right now they had time. The future was still far off.

When Adama walked into the outer room of Roslin's office Tory greeted him with a giddy smile. He could tell already she knew more than she should.

"Admiral, what brings you here?" Tory asked innocently.

Her implied what she meant which was something like, _she's been wondering when you'd finally show up_.

"I…" he began but found the words unable to push past the lump in his throat.

He swallowed his emotions down and pulled on the bottom of his uniform straightening the material into place. He had to be strong for Roslin. There was no time to be emotional.

"I have an urgent matter to discuss with the President," he explained.

Tory rose from her chair and Adama was sure she was about to say, _it is an urgent matter but it doesn't involve discussion_. Adama pretended not to see the implication written on Tory's face. Time could change everything in an instant. Only a few hours ago Adama might have playfully insinuated certain things to Tory with a humorous hint of teasing. Now he could barely manage a smile.

Tory led Adama through the draped doorway and into the inner sanctuary of Roslin's office. He was surprised by his reaction to seeing her again. The reason for his trip left his mind as her visage once again filled his senses. _Yes_, he thought, Colonial One _does smell like mint and vanilla_.

"Admiral," Roslin said a little breathless.

The eagerness in her voice was embarrassing for both of them.

"Should I see to it you're not interrupted?" Tory inquired professionally, but with a painfully obvious smirk.

Adama and Roslin spoke in unison. He said yes and she said no. They exchanged a glance and spoke again. This time she said yes and he said no. Tory started to back out of the room.

"No interruptions then…" she said with a lifted eyebrow and closed the drapes behind her.

"Lords of Kobol," Roslin muttered under her breath.

She lifted her eyes up to meet Adama's. Her eyes were still so bright, so full of life.

"This is going to get completely out of control, I can tell already," she remarked with her hands dropping to her desk in defeat.

She seemed to draw some excitement from the situation as he had earlier. He decided to watch her happiness for a while before he tore down the wall of ignorance.

"Tory suspects?" Adama asked, forcing himself to be happy no matter how fleeting the moment.

"Tory is observant," Roslin began, "I got back to _Colonial One_ late enough to raise her suspicions."

"Late?" Adama said surprised, "You left too early."

Too early and too late seemed to be the way of his relationship with her. His words drew a smile and a blush from Roslin. She turned her head away and he sat in the chair in front of her desk.

"So…" Roslin began hesitantly.

"So…" Adama repeated contented to live in the moment.

She was subtly twitching in the chair and he could tell the whole situation made her uneasy. He didn't mind. One of his favorite entertainments was watching Roslin work out problems that make her uncomfortable.

"I mean, after all," she started in abruptly standing, "the cylons are no longer chasing us and we have found Earth."

Adama watch with amusement as she paced back and forth with her hands on her hips.

"That's true," Adama said quietly.

"And further more," Roslin continued, pacing again, "Our time as the leaders of the fleet may be drawing to a close with Earth on the horizon. Soon we won't be breaking any rules."

She stopped and with her hands still on her hips turned to face him. He nodded.

"You agree with me now, of all times," she said sarcastically.

Adama shrugged his shoulders. She was putting on a very entertaining show and he didn't want to ruin it.

"And," she said taking another deep breath and pacing again.

This time she walked to her desk and picked up a newspaper that featured their entwined lips on the front page.

"The fleet seems to be happy for us. Not one vicious rumor floating around, although Tom Zarek had a few choice words for me this morning."

Roslin put a hand to her forehead and sat down on the couch. He could see the performance had swallowed up all of her energy. She tired to hide her exhaustion with a weak smile. The reality of the situation began to overtake Adama. Why do bad things have to happen to people you love? Why couldn't he have a little more time with her? He thought he had plenty of time.

"What are you thinking, Bill?" Roslin asked.

Bill lifted his head slowly. He stood up and walked over to the couch, standing in front of Laura. Her eyes settled on him, questioning his body language.

"Dr. Cottle came to see me today," he started but before he could say anything more he heard Laura sigh and turn her head away.

Her hand reached out for the arm of the sofa. He knew that she knew that he knew. Simple. Now, their relationship was simple. Once the choice had been made Adama was surprised how simple love could be.

"How long?" she whispered.

Adama moved around the coffee table and sat next to Roslin. He put a hand around her shoulders and pulled her head to rest on his chest. She resisted at first but he quickly felt her relax under his touch. Vanilla and mint filled his nose as her hair tickled his chin.

"Long enough," he whispered back.

Her grip tightened around him.

"I want to say goodbye to the fleet," Laura said her voice barely audible.

Bill stroked her arm but didn't speak. He didn't have to. Laura knew he agreed.

He was glad Tory would see to it they would have no interruptions. This was their moment. Adama was not going to let anything get in the way of the few moments they had left. Time was a strange thing. Adama refused to waste anymore of the precious fleeting commodity.


	22. Tribute

_Sorry it took so long to post. Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Day 5

After a long, painful hour in the Admiral's bathroom Laura Roslin wasn't sure she would be able to make it to the Presidential address Adama had arranged for her. As she hunched over the head she thought to herself it was now or never, literally. Letting the people see her one last time was important, for her and for them, but she wasn't about to let them see her in this condition.

"Laura, are you alright?" Adama asked through the bathroom door.

It was perhaps the most ironic question she had ever been asked. She remembered the first time she had gone through this. Back then Billy was the one standing outside her door.

"I'm fine," she choked out with as must enthusiasm as she could gather; "I'm only dying."

Her joke was too morbid to draw a laugh from Adama. She heard the golden knob rattle as he tried to enter. She had locked the door and made no move to open it. If the matter could be helped, Roslin's pride didn't want Adama to see her like this. True, he had seen her at her worst before, but she still had her dignity.

"Unlock the door," he growled. He could be such a man sometimes.

"I'll be out in a minute," she replied.

There was silence, and then she heard the door rattle with more force. Once she felt strong enough she got to her feet and turned on the water. She splashed her face a few times and searched Adama's cabinet for something to take the taste out of her mouth. When she saw herself in the mirror she was alarmed. Compared to how she felt inside she looked pretty darn good on the outside. Composed, polished, Presidential…not like a dying woman at all.

"Laura, let me--"

Adama started to say but Roslin pulled open the door before he could finish. She gave him a look that said she was determined to die with as much pride left in tact as possible.

"…help you," he finished quietly. He extended his hand to her and she took it gratefully.

Walking was getting more and more difficult. Without Dr. Cottle even telling her she knew this would probably be the last day she ever spent on her feet. She wanted to conserve as much energy as possible in order to present a brave front to the fleet. News of her cancer hadn't been broadcast. In fact, aside from the man in the room only four other people knew how short her time was.

Dr. Cottle, Lee Adama and, Roslin figured by now, Kara probably knew too. As soon as Adama had delivered the news to her, Roslin immediately told Tory, in order to start making the proper arrangements. Roslin thought Tory had taken it well, until she later saw the red puffy eyes of her assistant.

There was only one more person she was going to tell, Galen Tyrol. From the repairs being needed to the ships in the fleet due to the constant travel Roslin hadn't been able to find a moment of time to talk to him without raising suspicions. The rest of the fleet would find out soon enough. Her hope was the pain of her death would be eased by the discovery of Earth. The people would soon forget her in order to begin their new lives. That was as it should be.

Adama lead her to the hatch and before opening directed her gaze to a wheelchair he had stashed in the corner. She pulled back from his arm and glared at him. Maybe he was only concerned with her well being, but she knew if she sat in that chair now she wouldn't be getting out of it. Adama seemed to understand her reaction, though he wasn't pleased.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, taking both of her hands in his.

"Yes," she said lifting her chin, "…and maybe other thirty years with you in our cabin, but I wouldn't want to be selfish."

Adama smiled faintly at that joke. Roslin met his eyes and tried to will him into actually laughing but the pain of the subject was written on his face. Dying wasn't so bad, but seeing the pain in Bill's eyes was nearly unbearable.

She leaned forward and kissed him gently for a lingering moment. It reminded her of the first time he had kissed her onboard _Colonial One_ after she had promoted him.

"I'm ready," she informed him, taking his arm. He opened the hatch and helped her step through.

She presented herself to the waiting audience of officers and reporters as if nothing was wrong. She pulled away from Adama's arm as the applause pulled her to the stage. From the way he held onto her hand she knew he wanted to help her to the podium, to make sure she didn't collapse, but Roslin had warned him that would look suspicious. There were too many good reporters still left in the fleet.

The clapping filling the room didn't die down once she was standing in front of the microphone. Her speech was to be broadcast throughout the entire fleet. Being in front of so many people didn't make her nervous, but worrying about her strength giving way during the speech did. Finally, after what seemed liked ages, the audience quieted and Roslin could begin her statement. She looked out over the audience. Kara and Lee were standing side by side, both in dress uniform. Long sashes were draped across their chests. Roslin looked out to see all of the officers wore the same outfit. She smiled at their respect for her.

Unable to focus on them without feeling her heart in her throat, Roslin picked a point at the far end of the hanger deck. With a deep breath, she gave her farewell to the people she served.

"One hundred years ago our people united and fought in a war. They fought for their homes and families. They fought for the free land in which they lived. But now, our lands are gone. Our families have been torn apart. Our homes have been destroyed in the wake of a powerful enemy that threatens the survival of our very species.

"Despite all of this, we united together again. Through our differences and heartache and fear, we proved to our enemies that the human spirit is more than just a desire for wealth and power. Despite the mistakes we've made we have proved hope for a new and better tomorrow can see us through anything. Let us turn from the cup of bitterness and hatred. Let us remind ourselves that at the end of all things, we are human. It is our greatest strength and our greatest fault.

"Earth is days away. Hope and human spirit led us here. When the Thirteenth Tribe asks, what was it we wanted most? We will answer victory. Victory; no matter how long the journey; no matter how high the costs. Without victory, there is no survival.

"Admiral Adama once posed the question, does humanity deserve to survive? I venture to say yes, we do. And we will survive. We will live on. Our spirit, the human spirit, cannot be crushed. Victory is ours. So say we all."

Laura Roslin had never understood the phrase 'not a dry eye in the house' until she peered out over the audience. There was a silence before the wild applause and cheers. A silence filled with memory and hope and weariness and joy. Roslin never believed herself to be a great public speaker but from the reaction of the crowd she must have said something moving and profound. She nodded and smiled humbly. Grateful her last words would, perhaps, be memorable.

Her eyes landed on Kara. The girl was clapping fiercely and doing nothing to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Laura's heart leapt to her throat. Kara was so brash and untouchable. The emotion on her face stabbed Laura right in the heart. Either that or she was feeling a cancer pain.

Lee Adama, at Kara's side, seemed more composed, though he wasn't looking at Roslin as he clapped. Laura wondered if she would be out of line to ask Apollo if he would take care of his father once she was gone.

The reality of the cancer was being to sink in. Though she tried to ignore it, her strength was gone. There was nothing left keeping her standing but sheer will power. She knew she wouldn't be able to walk away from the hanger deck with the dignity she had hoped would be afforded to her. Once quick glance over her shoulder at Adama was all it took. He understood and was immediately at her side. Subtly he slid his hand under her elbow for support.

"So say we all," he whispered in her ear as he began to help her down.

Her legs went numb and she stumbled causing the applauding audience to suddenly gasp. Oh, lovely. This was exactly what Roslin didn't want. One slight stumble and all was lost. It was only a matter of time before the questions would start coming and she knew Adama wouldn't lie about her illness.

Adama nodded to Dr. Cottle who brought the wheelchair around for Roslin. Perhaps, they wouldn't have to ask questions. The wheelchair made things pretty clear. As she slowly lowered herself into the chair she had to let a part of her life go. It was painful, and she hated being under the scrutinizing eyes of the press and _Galactica _Officers while she endured it.

"I need to see the Tyrols," Roslin told Adama frantically as he bent down to talk to her from behind the wheelchair.

By now Galen and Cally must have guessed something was wrong, and she hated not having the time to tell them in person. She hadn't planned on being so weak so soon.

"I have a surprise for you," Adama said mysteriously and lingered as if he was smelling her hair.

Roslin smirked. She wasn't sure how many more surprises she could handle today.

Adama straighten his posture and nodded to Saul Tigh, who was standing next to Kara and Lee. Tigh turned and barked out orders.

"Officers, fall in line," he ordered.

There was a shift in the crowd as the crew formed two straight lines facing each other down the length of the hanger deck. Roslin had to swallow hard to stop herself from letting tears fall. She had never known very much about military protocol but she knew what this meant.

There wasn't a man woman or child on the Twelve Colonies who hadn't heard of the _Zeus Tribute_. The _Tribute_ had only been used a few times throughout Colonial history. The military rarely bestowed its highest civilian honor on anyone. Only the most powerful and influential figures in history received such praise. Roslin was shocked to find herself on the receiving end of it now.

Adama pushed her chair forward, between the lines of his officers, each with a hand held to their forehead. From the stricken looks on the faces of the officers, Laura knew that her secret was out. They stood at attention, giving her the dignity in her final appearance that Adama must have suspected she wanted.

She smiled at as many of the officers as would make eye contact with her. Trying to reassure them they would survive even if she didn't. Adama stopped her from moving forward and she looked up to see Tyrol standing in the line on the right. He didn't look at her and she was sure if ever she had something he shouldn't forgive her for, this was it. How could she keep news of her death from her own son? She had few regrets in life, but Galen Tyrol was one of them.

Instead of ignoring her spitefully, as he had every right to do, he stepped out of line and moved behind her. She felt Adama's presence move to the background and Galen resumed pushing her down the line of officers. Adama must have told Tyrol. They must have arranged this for her. Roslin put a hand to her mouth, trying to contain her emotions for the journey down the rows. When the hardened military soldiers of Adama's crew couldn't keep tears from falling from their eyes, it was a wonder Roslin managed to maintain her Presidential exterior. She was as strong as any of them and they knew it now.

When Tyrol reached the end of the rows he turned Roslin around to face them. Adama stood in the middle, facing Roslin.

"Company, unpin," Tigh ordered again.

This time, all the officers, including Adama, unfastened the sashes around their uniforms and with one unanimous movement bent down to lay them on the ground. The military was offering not only their loyalty, services and decorations; they were offering something much more valuable. They were offering her their respect. How she, Laura Roslin, the unlikely Secretary of Education turned President, gained the respect of the military was beyond her. If there was ever a moment she felt she could die in peace, this was it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 3

"I don't give a fig what Dr. Cottle says," Roslin argued.

For a dying woman, she certainly could put up a fight. Ever since the speech, Roslin hadn't been strong enough to return to _Colonial One_, so naturally, Adama offered her his quarters. He was glad for the excuse to have her so close by. He had hardly left his quarters for the past two days. Roslin was deteriorating faster than he expected. Cottle wanted to move her to the Life Station, where he could monitor her around the clock. He also told her she would probably only have one or two more days of coherency before her speech and reasoning skills would fail.

Her reaction was to snort and reply, "I'm going to die, anyway. If I have to do it anywhere, then it's here."

Of course, her words sank into Adama's heart and he saw no reason to move her if she didn't want to be.

"How close are we to Earth?" she asked, rapidly changing the subject.

He hadn't been in the CIC enough to be a complete expert on the subject but after pulling up a comfy chair to her bedside he answered.

"Gaeta tells me we can jump in three days," Adama said.

He wanted to plead with her to hold on long enough to see Earth. From the look in her eyes, he could tell she was thinking the same thing. Her face grimaced over with pain. These were the times he wished she would go to the Life Station. Slowly he sat down and removed his glasses, placing them on the table at the side of his bed near some scattered papers Roslin had been working on. She was still working up to the very end. He frowned.

"We both know you should be preparing for the jump instead of being here," Roslin said looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

"My crew can manage without me for a few days," he replied solemnly.

He almost added, but how am I going to manage without you for the rest of my life?

With a shaking hand Roslin removed her glasses. Her lips formed a pale line and her eyes stared at him pleading.

"Bill," she began hoarsely, "There are a few things I need to say."

"I know," Bill answered. She must not have believed he really did know, because she continued.

"The first time I—" she started but he interrupted her, wanting her to save her breath for more important things.

He reached into his pocket and touched the golden band inside.

"When we danced on Colonial day," he answered, proving to her he really did know what she had to say.

"When I first knew," Adama continued taking her hand, "was when I saw you like this on _Colonial One_. You just kept right on working, even though Dr. Cottle was about to have a coronary."

Roslin smiled and her eyes lit up with his image.

"You made me Admiral of the Fleet," he said humbly.

Something about his words must have affected her deeply. She drew her hand back and turned her head away. Before she faced away he saw her eyes glistening.

"Admirals have the power to marry anyone on a long term flight," he said.

That got her attention. He smiled, pleased with himself. He knew she would perk up at the mention of marriage.

"I would say this is short term," she replied monotone.

Bill didn't know if she was talking about the remaining days to Earth or her remaining days to live. Of course, whichever she was thinking really didn't matter. With two fingers and a thumb he pulled the ring out of his pocket.

"I couldn't find any gold, so I had them melt down my Admiral's pins to make this ring," he explained.

She only stared at him blankly. For knowing her so well, sometimes he had no frakking idea what she was thinking. He shifted nervously in the chair. The situation was a surprise. Adama hadn't expected he would be nervous but the longer Roslin stared the more nervous he became.

"All you have to do is say yes," he said, after the silence finally got to him.

Maybe she didn't see the point in marrying him now. She had said that before, about Adar_. I really didn't see the point in marrying anyone_, her words popped into his mind from no where.

"Bill," she began.

He leaned forward, hoping against hope. Her eyes were at least full of compassion, so if this was going to be a rejection at least it would be a nice one.

"I will be dead in three days. It's not fair for me to marry you now."

Bill lowered his head to the ring in his hands. This wasn't a rejection. This was her own fear. Even on her deathbed Roslin was trying to protect him from heartache.

"The rest of humanity will have years of happiness on Earth…give me three days Laura. You've given your people a future, let me have the present."

At that moment Laura could no longer maintain the composed emotionless gaze. The professional presidential façade fell away and she reached out for his hand. With her other hand she quickly brushed away the silent tears trailing down her high cheekbones.

"You have a measure of greatness in you Bill Adama. You are the best man I have ever known," she said.

For a moment she didn't look sick. Her face had a little more color, her voice was a little stronger, her grip a little tighter. She didn't just say the words, she seemed to feel them throughout her entire withering body. Bill found it difficult not to shed tears of his own. Without needing anymore encouragement he slid the ring onto her finger and clasped her hand in both of his. They remained that way for a few minutes, simply looking at each other.

Laura Adama. Bill had always liked the sound of it. By simply making her his wife, as he had a right to do as Admiral of the fleet, he suddenly saw her in a whole different way. Walking hand in hand with her down some sparkling beach on Earth like the ones on Caprica. Sharing a picnic with her on a hot bright day under a large shady tree. Watching the natural light of Earth's sun change her hair different tones of red and brown as she laughed at the edge of the glass clear lake. Smelling mint and vanilla everywhere he went.

Laura's violent coughing shattered the images racing through his mind. He would never have those memories with her. His last picture of her would be this. A woman of great power and intelligence and influence, weakened and diminished by the illness wracking her body. Her face was filled with pain. If only there where some way to transfer that pain. Adama wanted to feel the physical ache of it. He wanted to drown out the hollow dull emptiness eating him up inside.

"I'm glad, Bill," she began her voice ragged but her face trying to smile, "I'm glad it all happened the way it did. The cylon's led me to you, and for that, I can never repay them."

Though her words were romantic her eyes suddenly became steel cold. Adama was somehow comforted to see her iron will was not affected by the physical ailments destroying her life force. She stretched her hand out to the table by his bed and handed him a paper. He took it but did not unfold the white pages.

"I can't repay them but I can right certain…" Laura trailed off as if searching for a word. She must not have found it because she continued speaking.

"My last official act is a Presidential Pardon to the Sharon Valerii model married to Agathon."

Bill was extremely surprised but he didn't let it show. He remembered what Laura said Bianca had told her. Sharon would bring peace to the cylons and humans. Maybe she would, after all.

Another few minutes passed. Laura closed her eyes and smiled as she twisted the new ring on her finger. The sight made Adama wish he could just sit and watch her forever. He knew there were others that needed to see her. Her energy for conversation was wearing thin.

"The children are waiting to see you," he said.

Laura opened her eyes and regarded him with confusion.

"Children?" she repeated with shock.

Adama forced himself not to chuckle at the alarm and panic in her voice.

"Yes, five of them," he explained, "you've been busy…"

She laughed out loud but still seemed confused.

"Lee and Kara, Tyrol and Cally, and Tory. They are all waiting outside to see you," he said. The smile faded from her lips quickly. "Should I let them in?"

"No," Roslin told him firmly. "It's too much like saying goodbye."

"It is goodbye, Mrs. Adama," he choked out.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself never to talk like that again. Mentioning the end of her life and calling her by his name in the same sentence was like a stab in the heart. Laura squeezed his hand and gave him a him a look with sympathy and terror combined.

"Besides, it's not for you, it's for them," he finished once his voice was stronger.

"Three minutes of being married to me has made you too bossy," she joked.

"You like me bossy," he said, lifting himself from the chair. Roslin smirked.

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Kara Thrace sat on the grey steel floor outside Adama's door with her elbows resting on her knees. Her eyes followed the outline of Lee's shadow on the floor as he paced from one end of the corridor to the other. Occasionally her eyes would divert to the couple across from her.

Cally was sitting by Tyrol on a black storage trunk, her head resting on her husband's shoulder and baby in her arms. Kara watched them with curiosity. Why the hell was Tyrol so interested in Roslin? Obviously he was more concerned than the average civilian or he wouldn't be here now. She stared at them, trying to unravel the mystery, but finally gave up after an hour or so.

Tory Foster had shown up about fifteen minutes ago. Kara was pleased to see the prissy girl kept her distance. Tory stood at the far end of the hallway, frantically jotting down notes in her black folder.

As Kara watched the 'mourners' she wondered why she was there. She had never been particularly close to Roslin. True, she wanted the President to see her with Lee, but not like this. In her heart of hearts, Kara wanted the old man and Roslin to dance together at her wedding to Lee. When Adama came out that door he would let the group in to say goodbye. Kara didn't think she had any right to waste Roslin's last moments. Maybe she would just wait right here on the floor until Lee was finished.

The heavy hatch door opened and Adama stepped into the hallway. The look he wore was one she hadn't seen since the day of Zak's funeral. Despair.

Lee stopped pacing. Tory glanced up from her notebook. Cally lifted her head from Tyrol's shoulder. The old man's eyes landed on each of them.

"You can go in," he said.

No one moved. All eyes stared at the old man for a few minutes. Kara heard Tory's notebook slap shut and with determination she pushed passed Adama through the doorway.

Tyrol and Cally exchanged solemn faces and got to their feet following Tory's lead. Lee was right behind them. He stopped in front of Kara and reach out his hand into the air above Kara's legs. She had no choice but to take the offered hand and be lead into the room.

Once everyone was inside Adama closed the hatch. Kara tried not to look over Tyrol's shoulder and through the breezeway that lead to Adama's bed but her eyes betrayed her. To see Roslin laying their, sick, helpless, vulnerable, made Kara sick to her stomach. An overwhelming feeling of dread and depression made her turn her eyes away.

Kara didn't want to be here. For a moment she considered spinning around, flinging the hatch open and escaping down the hallway. Apollo sat down at the table near the kitchen area and Starbuck was glad for an excuse to turn her eyes away from the bedroom. Tory, with full bravery and will, was the first to walk into the bedroom and say her last goodbyes to Roslin.

A light conversation about Adama's artwork broke out around Kara, but she knew everyone was thinking about what they would say to the President on her deathbed. The longer it took, the more uneasy Kara grew. She really shouldn't be here. This was for family, and she wasn't family.

Tory finally came back into the main room, a hand wiping tears from her face. She wasn't able to speak, but nodded and with shaking hands quickly opened the hatch and left the room. Kara was alarmed. The prissy briefcase was usually always so detached.

The Tyrols made their way to the bedroom next. Every once in a while Kara would steal a glance away from Adama and Apollo to look into the room. She couldn't hear what they where saying, but Cally was letting Roslin hold Nicholas and Tyrol watched with his eyes brimming. Kara hated being emotional. Frak. This situation was bad. She wanted to get out. What was she going to say? What do you say to a dying person?

Apollo must have had some idea what the Tyrols were doing, because he kept his head lowered and gaze averted from her as he spoke in hushed tones. They soon left Roslin's bedside and exited the same way Tory did. Galen had his arm around Cally as they slowly walked out of the room with heads hanging. Kara watched the interaction and soon met Adama's gaze. He gestured with his hands and Kara followed the Adama men into the dreaded room.

Her hands were sweaty and her mouth dry. She wasn't strong enough to face this. The closer she got to Roslin the more blank her mind became. Apollo sat in the chair beside the bed and Kara stood behind it. Maybe she could hide and Roslin wouldn't notice her. Lee took one of Roslin's hands as Adama watched.

Words seemed useless at this point. Roslin and Apollo were both contented just to look at each other, letting their eyes do the talking. They had a connection that Kara just didn't understand. Correction, Kara understood it perfectly, and she was a little jealous that Tyrol and Lee both were closer to Roslin than she was.

"May we have a moment," Roslin finally asked, looking up at Adama.

The President moved her hand to brush away a lose hair and it was then Kara noticed the ring on her finger. Before she had time to process the significance of the ring, the old man was shoeing her out of the room. Once they were out of earshot Kara looked at Adama and his eyes told her everything. He had married the President. Somehow out of the dread and despair she smiled.

Kara was relieved she no longer had to face the sick woman. She let out a deep sigh, knowing she had just seen Roslin for the last time.

"She wants you to speak at her funeral," Adama said, as they waited for Lee. Kara lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

"Me?" she said, not sure she heard the old man right. He nodded slowly.

"Why?" she questioned.

Before Adama could answer Lee stepped into the kitchen area. Kara stood up ready to following him out the door. He eyes were dull and his jaw clenched tightly.

"She wants to see you," he said, barely getting the words out without his voice cracking.

The words caused fear to make Kara's heart beat faster. He didn't just say that. Why would Roslin want to see her? She looked from Lee to his father and back again. There was no way she could get out of this. Again she walked into the room. Roslin's eyes were closed and did not open as Kara hovered above her. Kara finally sat on the edge of the chair, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"I wanted to thank you," Roslin said, her eyes slowly opening as she turned her head slightly.

Kara did her best not to squirm under Roslin's still intense eyes.

"For what?" Kara shrugged casually, trying to keep her cool.

A faint smile spread across Roslin's colorless lips.

"…believing in me."

Kara turned her head toward the wall. She just couldn't keep looking at the pathetic sight before her. A hand reached out and rested on hers.

"The whole fleet believes in you," Kara answered.

Roslin's soul searching stare did not leave Kara.

"We are strong for them," Roslin said gesturing toward Lee and his father, "You need to be strong enough for both of us now."

"Frak," Kara said, as she felt tears sting her eyes, "I don't know what to say."

Roslin smiled warmly.

"You are family, Kara. Don't ever forget that," Roslin said, her eyes growing wide and her brow wrinkling.

Kara nodded quickly and stood up, leaving the room as quickly as she could. She felt like the metallic fingers of a Cylon Centurion had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. The last words Kara Thrace ever heard Laura Roslin say stayed with her for the rest of her life.


	23. Earth

_This is how I hope the end of the series goes (of course, it will never end because it is the best). A long, long, long time from now, this is how I hope they do it. I loved every review I got and I hope this story entertained you! I loved writing it and I hope you're not too angry with me about the ending. Yes, it was hard, but I love it bittersweet…Thanks for reading!!!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing all belongs to Ron Moore, sci-fi ect. _

Day 0

The jump was a smooth one. Once clear of the Space Stations the entire fleet followed the coordinates Roslin had sent. Kara was in the CIC surrounded by Tigh, Lee, Helo and Sharon. Everyone held there breath as they came out of jump. All eyes were glued to the screen hovering above the command center.

Kara couldn't hear herself think over the cheering in the CIC. There were seven planets registering on dradis. Tigh looked up at Kara about ready to order her to the hanger deck to get a closer look at the planet. Earth. This was Earth. Kara could feel it. She smiled at Lee who returned the gesture and before she knew it, he was kissing her. If ever Kara Thrace had a perfect moment, this was it. Earth was on dradis and Lee Adama was in her arms.

Like all perfect moments, this one ended too soon. As soon as Lee let her go, gasping for oxygen, Kara looked over his shoulder and saw Adama enter the CIC from his quaters. The cheering stopped abruptly. Everyone watched with heavy hearts as the Admiral stepped up to the command center. He peered up at the tiny red marks on the dradis screen and then his eyes swept around the room. He lowered his head and everyone knew what it meant.

The President was gone.

Kara was bitter. Roslin never even saw Earth. This was her dream and fate was so cruel not to let her see it become a reality. Lee took a step toward his father and Kara thought he was about to speak until Gaeta's alarmed voice filled the CIC.

"Sir," he choked, "Multiple contacts on dradis."

Adama's head snapped up. Kara followed his eyes, and looked in horror as a dozen or more Basestars jumped into space. The only thing standing between humanity and total extinction was one old Battlestar. All eyes turned back to Adama. His mouth was a firm line. Without moving his gaze he ordered.

"Launch all Vipers."

Kara exchanged a glance with Lee. She was about to go to fight the cylons to the death. She knew she wouldn't be coming back. Before she took off for the hanger deck, she took Adama and Lee aside.

"Admiral, marry us right now," she said impulsively.

Lee's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Kara could hear Gaeta repeating Adama's orders to the rest of the crew. Adama looked at his son. Lee hesitated but seemed to reason himself into a nod.

"You need rings," Adama told them.

Kara turned to Lee who shrugged his shoulders. She couldn't marry Lee Adama before she went to die in battle because no one had a ring?

"Here," Tigh chimed in, pulling rings off his fingers. "This was Ellen's, this was mine."

"We can't—" Kara started to say but Tigh placed the rings in her hand and walked away to bark out orders before she could object.

"Alright, we have to make this fast," Adama said, his eyes looking up at the screen.

"Lee do you want to marry Kara?" He asked his son.

"Yeah," he said, and took Kara's hand.

He slid the ring on.

"Kara, do you want to marry my son?" Adama said again.

"Frak, yes," Kara answered.

It sounded so much better than 'I do.' Kara put the ring on Lee's finger, forever uniting them together.

"Alright, now get your ass down to the hanger deck," Adama ordered.

Kara threw her arms around Lee and kissed him once again before taking off in sprint down to her waiting Viper.

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After a few minutes of fighting, Adama realized there was no way to win this war. Every Viper they had was fighting off the Raiders, but the fleet of Basestar kept drawing closer and closer. Adama knew it was only a matter of time before they launched their nukes. _Galactica_ could take maybe two or three hits but his old Battlestar couldn't protect the fleet for long.

"How did they find us?" Tigh asked, interrupting Adama's thoughts.

"I can find out," Sharon said, as she ripped off a part of the command center and stuck a wire into her arm.

Helo turned his head away with closed eyes.

"Admiral," Gaeta said, "The Basestars are slowing their pursuit."

Adama looked up at the dradis screen. The cylons were still closing in but at a much slower rate. _Galactica _shook with the pounding of firepower.

With a cry of pain Sharon pulled the wire away and fell to her knees. Helo was immediately at her side. Though she was out of breath she looked up at Adama and spoke.

"When Roslin got the coordinates, Leobon was able to see them because of his connection with her," Sharon explained.

Adama had no idea what the hell that meant but he pretended like he did. Maybe someday, if they lived through this, Sharon could explain how it was all possible.

"There is something else," Sharon said after taking a deep breath, "The cylons are dying. Something in this part of space is killing them, like the beacon we found in from the Thirteenth Colony."

Maybe they had a chance after all. Adama brought his attention back to the dradis. There were still twelve Basestars in pursuit. They would wipe out the fleet before the virus would destroy them.

Laura was dead. Why would Bill Adama want to go on living without her? So what if he did make it to Earth? Could he really be happy living alone in their cabin by the lake?

"Send out the evacuation order," Adama barked.

Tigh looked at him with one large eye.

"Sir?" Gaeta asked.

"We have enough nukes on this tank to take out all of those Basestars," Adama said.

Tigh's mouth dropped open.

"Yeah, but you'd have to put enough distance between us and the fleet to…" Tigh trailed off.

Adama looked over at Tigh and his old friend smiled. They were on the same page.

"Gaeta, send the evacuation order," Tight repeated, "and then get the frak outta here."

"This is suicide," Apollo said alarmed, looking from Tigh to his father.

"I remember a certain incident with the Pegasus," Tigh remarked, tongue in cheek.

"Helo, take the ship around, toward the Basestars," Adama ordered.

Helo left Sharon's side and did as he was ordered. Adama felt the direction of the ship change beneath his feet.

The closer _Galactica_ got to the Basestars the rougher the ride became. Sparks were flying on the CIC as firepower from the cylons penetrated the outer hull.

"Everyone, get to the escape decks," Adama ordered.

From across the room Adama saw Gaeta salute as he left his post in order to escape. Helo helped Sharon to the exit door but stopped in front of Adama. Sharon reached into her uniform and pulled out the Presidential Pardon Roslin had issued.

"We forgive her," Sharon said and hugged the Admiral.

The two left the CIC.

"Come on, lets go," Lee said, gripping his father's uniform sleeve.

Adama exchanged a looked with Tigh and neither of them moved.

"What are you waiting for?" Lee asked, concern growing more present in his voice.

Tigh lifted his chin.

"Admiral goes down with his ship," Tigh explained.

Adama looked down and smiled faintly.

"That's a bunch of frakking ego talking," Apollo yelled, "Now let's go!"

Adama still didn't move. The hardest part of all of this would be saying goodbye to his son. He suddenly understood how Roslin felt. Saying goodbye was hard.

"I proud of you, son," Adama said softly.

The ship was still shaking from the ever closing distance between the cylon fleet. Apollo shook his head, eyes filling with emotion. His protests died down and he must have seen the look of determination in his father's eyes. Adama was not going to be talked out of this.

Without another word, Lee hugged his father tightly. Adama returned the hug.

"I love you, dad," Lee whispered.

He let go and took a step back.

"Take care of Kara," Adama replied, with a faint smile.

Lee clenched his jaw and look just like he did when he was a little boy. Resolve washed over his face and he stood at attention. Adama's boy was a man now. He would survive. Adama would make sure he survived.

"You take care of Laura," Apollo said.

He turned and disappeared down the corridor.

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"What the frak are they doing?" Kara asked into her helmet.

The fighting around her was fierce and for the first time in the battle she looked up toward _Galactica_. The old Battlestar was far away now, and heading straight for the swarm of cylon Basestars.

"Are they crazy?" she asked again.

No one responded as they tried to fight off the Raiders attacking them.

"You know my dad," Apollo's voice said of the wireless.

Kara saw his Viper just over head, swoop down and slice a Raider in two. She didn't have time to think about his words as she fought off three more Raiders. Just as she was closing in on the last one, the ship seemed to lose control and began flying erratically. Soon the other Raiders were doing the same thing, making easy targets for the Vipers.

Kara finally had another chance to look at _Galactica_. The ship was nearly on top of the Basestars.

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Adama looked at the launch switch, his hand just to the side of it. He brought his head up at saw his old friend smiling.

"We are pretty pathetic, Bill," Tigh said, "…but it's just no use living without her."

Adama lowered his head and then raised it again.

"You are a true friend, Saul," Bill said.

"No, I'm a lazy mother-frakker, who never deserved anything you did for me. I owe you," Saul replied.

Adama smiled at that and then looked back down at the switch. _Galactica_ was falling apart under the cylon weapons fire. The old ship wouldn't take much more. Adama looked into space and spoke his last words to Roslin.

"Victory is ours. So say we all."

"So say we all," Tigh repeated.

Adama flipped the switch and the nukes launched.

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Kara was sure the look of horror on her face was mirrored by everyone else in the fleet and the cockpit of a Viper. _Galactica_ launched all of the nukes it had. Six Basestars exploded causing a chain reaction that reached the entire fleet. _Galactica_ was caught in the blasts and erupted in a ball of metal and fire.

The explosions were far enough away that the fleet would be safe. Adama had just saved humanity. Now he was gone. The losses were heavy. Too heavy for Kara to tolerate. How could they go one without their two beloved leaders? Through tear filled eyes she looked back at the fleet. Was it really worth it?

"Common, old lady," Apollo said over the lump in his throat, "Let's get them to Earth. For dad and Laura."

Kara swallowed hard. Her eyes lifted to Earth, a blue and green planet floating just in the distance.

"Dad told me to bury Laura by a clear lake," Apollo continued as they flew their Vipers side by side back to the fleet.

"Let's live there, Kara," he said.

She nodded her head, swallowing the hurt and shock of all that had just happened.

"Yeah," she replied.

It would take time but things would get better. After all, she had Earth now. She had Apollo. She had hope. Admiral William Adama and President Laura Roslin had given the fleet hope for a new and better life. Victory was theirs.

"So say we all." Kara muttered to herself looking back at the fading fire from the explosions.

This time humanity would do things right. The fleet owed that much to the President and the Admiral. Victory was theirs.

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_Hope you enjoyed!! Yes, it was difficult to kill Roslin and Adama!! I hope my next fic won't be quite so sad (or quite so long)… Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!!!!! _


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